


The Farm

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-29
Updated: 2005-06-16
Packaged: 2018-12-27 15:46:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 48,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12084204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: This is #3 in the series that began with "The Sunshine Files". It will make more sense if you read it and "Treehouse" first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

"Ladies and gentlemen, I called you all in here to say congratulations. Thanks to you, all your hard work and my brilliance, our first quarter profits have gone through the roof, which should make Theodore a very happy man. Maybe I’ll be able to pay him. Now, I’d like to discuss our latest account..."

"BRIAN! You have to help me!"

"Hello Claire, so nice to see you. What brings you here, to my humble agency, interrupting my STAFF meeting!?"

"I saaiidd, you have to help me."

"I’d be happy to, you cu, uh, Claire. Why don’t you go into my office and I’ll join you shortly. Cynthia, would you please show my lovely sister into my office and get her a cup of coffee."

"Right away, Brian. This way Claire."

"Decaf! Now where were we?"

 

"What can I do for you Claire?"

"Brian, the boys have become impossible. I want you do to something."

"Ah, yes, my dear nephews, as evil as ever, are they? What do you expect me to do with them besides hire a hit man? They’re your Satan spawn. Why don’t you and your wonderful husband do something about them? Or better yet, send them to spend some time with dear old Mom."

"I would if I could and you know that my husband left us. And Mom hasn’t been well."

"Humph, that’s what happens when you spend your spare time on your knees praying to a whiskey bottle."

"Brian, I always knew you were a son of a bitch..."

"Hold that thought, my private line. Hello? Hey, Sunshine. Hmm, sounds good to me, but uh, let me get right back to you, okay? Later."

"Brian, why are you looking at me like that? What’s with that grin, you look like the Grinch. Brian! Stop it!"

"Claire, why don’t you send the spawn to camp?"

"Camp? And just where am I supposed to get money for camp?"

"Don’t you worry an oily hair on your head; let me take care of that. You just have the little monsters ready with 2 weeks worth of clothes this Friday afternoon. Now, if you’ll excuse me, some of us work for a living."

"You know, Brian, you really are a fucking bastard!"

"Love you too, Claire. Bye!"

******************************

"Yo, big bro, I need your help..."

 

Late Friday afternoon the Jeep Cherokee pulled up in front of Claire's house. Two very disgusted brothers waited on the front porch. John and Peter had been screamed at, threatened and coerced by their mother to get their stuff together and wait out on the porch. She had refused to tell them where they were going or why, just that they would be gone for two weeks and it would be good for them.

Brian stepped out of the Jeep and stared at the two devils in front of him. "Are you ready?" he asked.

"Are you still gay?" John retorted.

"Yes, and I'm still bigger than you."

John frowned and made a face. Brian could tell he wanted to flip him off, but John had learned that fighting with Brian didn't often lead to victory. It led to bigger problems. 

Peter had not had that experience so he dared to ask, "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Taking you away for a lovely vacation in the country," Brian said sweetly.

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Peter replied.

Brian glared at him. He went to the front step and grabbed the two duffel bags sitting there. Justin popped the back door on the Cherokee and Brian threw the bags in. "Get in," Brian ordered, "or I'll throw you in there with the luggage and you can roll around for the next hundred miles."

Peter looked at Brian not believing what Brian had just said. "You can't touch me."

"Watch me," Brian said in a level voice.

"I'm going back inside the house," Peter said standing up.

Claire had been watching from behind the curtains. Peter turned the doorknob only to find it was locked. "Mom," he yelled. "Mom, let me in."

Claire left the door locked but she looked through the window and shook her head. "You're going with Uncle Brian. You can't come back in here."

"Fuck you!" Peter yelled. "I'm not going anywhere with that pervert!"

"I think you are," Brian said standing beside the car with his arms crossed.

"Mom!" Peter said through the door.

"Go with Uncle Brian," Claire repeated.

"Come on, Peter," John said moving towards the Jeep.

"I'm not fucking going," Peter replied stubbornly.

"Okay, John, hop in. Peter can spend the next two weeks on the porch if he wants. I think you'll like this place in the country," Brian said with a grin.

John climbed into the car. He knew he had made a big mistake falsely accusing his uncle of molesting him. He didn't want any more trouble. His mother had made life miserable for him for months after that happened. He had no idea what this trip was all about but he figured he might as well get it over with. Peter could play the asshole if he wanted, but John was pretty sure he wouldn't win this time, not with his mother keeping the door firmly locked.

Peter looked from Brian to his mother and back again. He could tell his mother wasn't about to give in, and John had ceased to be his ally. "Where are we going?" he demanded going to the other side of the car.

"Get in, and in a couple of hours you'll know," Brian said cryptically.

With a huge sigh Peter climbed into the backseat beside John.

"Buckle up," Justin said as he got into the driver's seat.

Brian slid into the passenger side and turned to the back. He looked at his two insolent nephews and with his Grinch grin he said, "John and Petey's excellent adventure is about to begin."

The boys cringed at the look on their uncle's face. What the fuck had they got themselves into?

About an hour later with tension thick enough to cut with a knife and a silence that hung heavy over them all, Justin pulled into a rest stop. He wanted to use the washroom and he wanted to get away from the four eyes that had been boring into the back of his head ever since they got into the car.

"Why the fuck are we stopping here?" Peter demanded.

"Um … you're not leaving us here, Uncle Brian, are you?" John asked with a sudden surge of fear coursing through him.

"Hey, that's a good idea," Brian grinned. "You could practise your foraging skills in the garbage, and when you got bored with that you could try hitchhiking. Who knows who you might hook up with?"

"I have to pee," Justin said giving Brian a dirty look. "If you guys need to go, now's your chance," he added looking into the back seat. He quickly got out and headed for the restrooms.

Brian climbed out and lit a cigarette. He leaned against the Jeep as he took a long drag. These kids were a fucking treat to be around!

He heard John's door open and the boy followed Justin to the restrooms. Peter opened his door doing his best to slam it back against Brian. Luckily for him it didn't reach. Brian suppressed the urge to yank the kid out of the car and hold him upside down over a nearby garbage can.

"Don't break into any of the machines," Brian called as Peter followed the other two inside.

Brian took a couple more puffs of his cigarette and then crushed it out. Justin came back and shortly after so did John. They waited on the sidewalk for Peter to appear.

"Where did Peter go?" John asked after a bit.

"Wasn't he inside with you two?" Brian asked.

"Didn't see him," Justin said. John shook his head.

"Shit!"

"Where could he have gone?" Justin asked.

"He's playing with us," Brian said. "Get in the Jeep. We're leaving."

"But … we can't leave him here," Justin said.

"Watch me," Brian replied and said it loud enough that if Peter was nearby he would be sure to hear. He made sure John was buckled in and then slowly got in himself.

"You're not really leaving him here, are you?" John asked. 

Brian could hear the tinge of fear in his voice. He wouldn't leave Peter here for long, but he had to call the bluff or they would be doomed when they got to the farm. Peter would hold the upper hand. "Start driving," Brian ordered.

Justin glanced at Brian's steely face and backed out of the parking space. "You're sure about this?"

"I'm sure," Brian said through gritted teeth. If worse came to worse they could drive to the next overpass and come back for Peter.

Justin drove slowly through the parking area. He was almost to the lane that would take him back onto the interstate when he heard something and glanced in the side view mirror. Peter was running at breakneck speed behind them, screaming for them to stop. Justin grinned and put on the brakes. He saw the little smirk of triumph on Brian's face as he opened his door and yelled at Peter, "Hurry the fuck up!"

"You were fucking going to leave me here!" Peter gasped as he did up he seat belt and tried to catch his breath.

"There's a certain value to punctuality," Brian said. "Don't think you can out asshole me. I own the copyright on being an asshole."

Peter glared at his uncle but he decided not to say anything more. He looked at John who gave him a wan smile. They were both in big doo-doo.

Another hour of silence and they turned into the driveway at the farm. Brian could hardly wait until his charges met their Uncle John. They would shit bricks when they found out another member of their family was a fag.

*********************

"So who do we have here?" John questioned as he came out of the porch door and gave Brian a fierce hug and Justin a peck on the cheek. 

"John, I'd like you to meet my evil, no good nephews. This is John and Peter. I can never remember who's who and it really doesn't matter; they're both equally horrible. Boys, this is your Uncle John." 

The boys looked up in horror then did a double take, seeing two pair of hazel eyes staring down at them, John, looking way too much like Brian for comfort.

John, the braver of the two, stood his ground but held out his hand to meet the elder John. Peter, seeing his brother actually being polite, held out his hand too.

"Where's Claire?" Brian asked. 

"Out doing errands, she'll be back soon." John answered.

"Are we staying here?" Peter queried. 

"Nope!" Brian responded enthusiastically. "You're staying at the best accommodations in town. Go get your stuff, time for a little hike in the woods."

As the baffled and slightly frightened boys got their gear, John, Brian and Justin huddled together to confirm the arrangements. John would lead the boys the long way through the woods to Steve's camp. Brian and Justin would fire up the grill for a little impromptu barbecue that they would enjoy when John and Claire returned.

John led the reluctant campers to Steve's farm.

During the walk Peter began to fire a volley of questions at John, including who he was, how was he related to Brian and didn't he think that Brian was a shit for being queer. John patiently answered all the questions and no, he didn't think Brian was a shit. John wasn't ready to reveal his own proclivities to his nephews, yet.

After an hour of stomping through the woods, John and his exhausted nephews arrived at Steve's camp. Steve, who was in on the arrangements, was there to greet them and show the boys to the bunkhouse.

At first the brothers thought it would be cool to be on the farm thinking it would be an adventure or like in the movies. They thought they would learn how to ride horses and perhaps how to lasso cows. They were in for a big surprise. After stowing their stuff under their bunks they joined Steve who was watching John ride one of the new horses. John, dressed in denim, sitting tall in the saddle looked like a tough cowboy and the boys were beginning to admire their new uncle who appeared to be everything they thought a man should be. And nothing like their Uncle Fag. They whooped and hollered as John rode the steed around the corral. John rode the horse toward them then jumped down. He then gave the lead over to Steve who called over one of the farmhands/counselors. 

Addressing the boys, Steve instructed them. "Now, you two go with Bill. You can muck this gelding's stall, brush him down, water and feed him."

"You want us to what?" Peter exclaimed in horror. Little John stood dumbstruck. 

"You heard me. Bill will help you. Now go and do a good job if you expect your supper!" Steve winked at John and Bill. "I'll be in to inspect your job. If you do it well then you eat." Bill led the horse and the two stunned brothers to the barn.

"They're going to be a handful those two," Steve said to John. 

"Yeah, I can see that. But you'll soon fix it. Brian told me that John accused Brian of molesting him about a year ago, called the cops on him and everything. They're destructive and homophobic. I hope we can change all that."

"Don't worry, John. We haven't lost anyone yet. And they are family. We'll set it to rights."

"I hope so. We're having a little barbecue later on when Mother comes back from her errands. Why don't you join us and we can talk about their itinerary while they're here."

"Sure thing, see you later."

John took the short cut back to the farmhouse to join his brother and Justin.

\----------------------------------

Within 15 minutes John was at the farmhouse sitting on the porch with a glass of iced tea in his hands. "You should have seen the look on their little faces when Steve told them they were going to clean out the stall. It was priceless." The four of them laughed wholeheartedly. Claire had returned and was preparing dinner. "Steve will be over in a while so we can discuss the rest of their chores."

"Justin."

"Yes, Claire."

"I'd like to show you something after dinner. I was looking for a tablecloth that I had packed away. My church is having a jumble sale and I was looking for some things to donate. While I was searching the attic I came across an old trunk. I didn't have time to look in it but I think it may have belonged to the artist Kinney. I know you like a good mystery. Maybe after dinner you and I can have a look in it."

"Oh boy! I'd love to."

Brian let out a little groan. "Claire, you know how he gets. He's like a dog with a bone." Beau looked up at his humans at the mention of a bone. "I have nothing for you, dog." Brian mumbled. Beau grumbled. "Don't get him started on another Sunshine File."

"Brian, you keep telling me I need something to occupy my time."

"I meant school. Okay, go ahead, search the attic. But if you start sneezing all over the place, don't blame me if I don't fuck a snotty twink."

"Briiaan!" Three heads shook in unison. 

"What?" Brian stared back.


	2. The Farm

Peter and John followed Bill into the barn.

"Yuck!" Peter said. "This place stinks."

"It doesn't stink," Bill replied. "Wait till we get to the manure pile. Now that stinks!"

"What do you mean? Manure … pile?" John asked putting the emphasis on the last word. He didn't like the sound of a pile of stuff that smelled like this barn. He watched where he placed his feet afraid that he was going to step in something disgusting.

"Grab one of those shovels each," Bill ordered.

"Why do we need a shovel?" John asked fearfully.

"There's lots of shit to shovel," Bill said with a chuckle that sent shivers up each boy's back. He led them over to Mercury's stall. That was the name of the gelding that John had been riding. He stopped beside the stall. "Shovel up the straw and whatever else is in there and I'll show you where to put it."

The brothers looked wild eyed at each other. They wanted to run, but they didn't know where the fuck they were or where they could run to. Each picked up a shovel and entered the square stall. The odor that they had found offensive before was magnified ten times inside the small box. They looked down to see two piles of still steaming shit.

"I'm not touching that," Peter almost whimpered.

"You don't have to touch it," Bill said calmly. "Just scoop it onto the shovel and I'll show you what to do with it."

"I … I can't," Peter gulped.

"You'll be surprised by what you can do at the end of a couple of weeks," Bill told them confidently.

Neither brother had any idea what that statement meant, and they didn't want to know what other gross and disgusting things they were going to be ordered to do. Peter wished he had stayed on the porch at home or run away at the rest stop. Anything that happened to him in those places couldn't possibly be worse than this. John just stared in disbelief.

"Get a move on," Bill said. "Dinner is in twenty minutes."

"I'm not hungry," Peter stated feeling his stomach turn over.

"Fine. We don't force you to eat."

"Then I'm not cleaning up this fucking shit!" Peter said defiantly.

"If you make that decision, you should know that you won't be eating until this stall is cleaned out. It's your responsibility. By tomorrow morning there will be more shit waiting for you, and the smell will be even worse. Not much fun on an empty stomach," Bill explained reasonably.

"You … you … you can't starve us and make us do slave labor," Peter said trying to sound strong and confident. It came out more like a whine.

"I think we can. You wouldn't be here if your guardian hadn't okayed it."

John looked at Bill. He knew the man was right. Their mother had given them to Uncle Brian. She wanted them straightened out, and this was the method of doing that. Nobody was going to save them. They were doomed to this place. John lifted his shovel and set it behind one of the piles of shit. He held his nose as he lifted it up.

"Follow me," Bill said. He led the boy out to the large manure pile behind the barn. "Throw it up on top."

John gave a heave with the shovel and then backed quickly away. He had visions of the shit raining down on his head. His little pile hit with a smack and stuck to the rest of the crap in the foul smelling heap. John turned to look at Bill as Peter emerged from the barn carrying his shovel of shit. Bill nodded towards the pile and Peter threw his on top. Both boys turned to look at Bill for approval.

"Step one," Bill said. "Now we spread some fresh hay in the stall." 

The boys managed to do that with no trouble. Bill had tied Mercury outside. He waited for the boys to finish with the hay. When they came out he had curry brushes ready for them to rub down Mercury. He showed them how to do it and both boys began the task.

Mercury loved to be curried and they always started newcomers off working with the gelding. You could almost see the horse sighing in contentment. He nuzzled John's neck as the boy worked on his front flank. John giggled and patted Mercury's nose as the horse whinnied his approval. When they were finished with the brushing, Bill handed each of them a carrot and they fed Mercury. The horse nuzzled their hands as he looked for more food. They smiled at each other liking the soft feel of the horse's tongue against the palms of their hands.

"Let's get this fella settled for the night," Bill said as he led Mercury back into the barn. He handed the lead to Peter who clucked as Bill had done and got the horse into his stall. John latched the door behind the horse. They each scratched Mercury's nose and said goodnight.

"Could we maybe ride him?" Peter asked.

"That's a privilege to be earned," Bill replied. "If you do your chores and stay out of trouble, I don't see why you won't be riding Mercury in a couple of days." The brothers smiled. "Hungry?" Bill asked. Peter and John nodded. "Dinner should be ready."

They walked together over to the cookhouse.

***************

When Steve arrived for the barbecue, everyone looked up waiting to hear what had happened with the demon brothers. Steve grinned as he sat down.

"So did they muck out the stall?" Justin asked.

"Oh, yeah!"

"C'mon, Steve, spill. We want to hear all about it," John said.

Steve looked at Brian who had not said anything. Steve could tell the man was holding his breath waiting to see if any headway had been made with the boys. He quickly recounted what Bill had told him. 

"They were eating their well-earned dinner when I left to come up here."

"I can't believe they shoveled the shit," Brian said shaking his head. "That had to be a humbling experience for them."

"That's the premise of the farm," John said. "These boys think their food comes from supermarkets and the most labor they ever do is carrying out the trash if somebody can make them do it. On the farm they have to work in order to get food, they have nowhere to run to, and they have only us inflexible old coots who don't give in. We always win."

"I bet it looks good on them," Brian said.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet," Steve chuckled as he dug into his steak. 

~~~~~

Halfway through dinner Bobby, who had an early shift at the Honey Bear, showed up. Claire immediately set out a plate heaped with barbecued ribs, grilled vegetables and a lightly buttered ear of corn. Brian raised an eyebrow at the overflowing plate, then grinned at John.

"What, you think your boy is the only twink around here with an appetite?" 

The brothers started to giggle as said offended twinks fired back in unison, "I’m not a twink!" More giggles were shared as everyone settled in to enjoy Claire's fine repast.

After dinner the ‘men’ decided to sit back and enjoy the clear warm evening on the porch. Brian wanted to learn more about Steve’s agenda for his nephews. Justin, who had quite enough of them during the ride to the farm, helped Claire with kitchen duty then followed her up to the attic.

Carrying lanterns, they found an old end table to set the lanterns on. "It’s over here, Justin, in this corner. I might not have ever seen it but for a spider."

"A spider?!" Justin, who had many allergies, especially to bug bites, jumped at the thought of sharing his personal space with a spider.

"Don’t worry; I think I scared it more than it scared me. I’m sure it’s long gone. Besides spiders are the good guys."

"The good guys?"

"Yes, spiders keep the bad bugs from running amuck. I try to leave them alone except when they decide to take up residence in one of my cupboards."

"Oh. So how did the spider help you to find the trunk?"

"As I said before, I knew I had a nice crocheted table cloth up here. I was looking around for it and was startled by the spider. I followed it back to its web and found this old trunk hidden under this drop cloth. I must have been up here hundreds of times, with Patience, and with John when he was a boy. We use this attic a lot for storage but I’ve never noticed this trunk. I think it was waiting for you and Brian to come here before it decided to show itself."

"What makes you think it belonged to the artist? It could have belonged to Patience or Aidan."

"Look at the initials on it. They’re faded but you can make them out."

Justin held a lantern closer to the front of the trunk. Under the lantern’s warm glow, he was just able to make out the initials, J.A.B.K.

"Wow, I think you’re right. Did you open it?"

"No. Something told me to wait for you."

"Claire, do you think there’s something in it that may hurt your family or Brian?"

"I’m not worried about me but I am concerned for John and for Brian too. They’re both still adjusting to this new family. That’s why I prefer to show you rather than John or Brian. If it’s a bunch of old canvases then we have nothing to worry about. But if the trunk is hiding some deep dark secret, I’d prefer them not to know about it. I don’t condone lying but if it keeps them safe, I’ll do it. And the owner of the trunk is long gone. I don’t think he’d care at this point."

Claire and Justin gingerly removed the drop cloth from the trunk trying to avoid the dust from making them sneeze. Justin dragged the trunk to the center of the attic so that he and Claire would have more room to work. The old lock on the front of the trunk was rusted through and practically broke by itself.

"Here goes nothing," Justin said as the old hinges gave way and allowed Justin to get a look at its contents.

"You’re right, Claire, there are some old canvases in here. This looks just like my trunk at home."

"Your trunk?"

"Yes. I have a trunk similar to this that I store my supplies in. Kinney did the same. But if he left the country, why is the trunk still here? You’d think he would have taken this stuff with him. I did pay attention in my art history classes. One of the reasons why we artists are starving is that our supplies cost so damn much. Brian would sneak into my trunk to take inventory. He’d replace my pads, pencils and paints. It took me some time to realize what he was doing."

"He’s a good man, your Brian."

"Yes, I think so. Let’s see what else is in here." Claire held the lantern closer as Justin began to lift out old rolls of canvas. Under the canvas were portfolios bound with leather straps. Each portfolio held dozens of sketches.

"Look! If these are all Kinney’s these may be worth a small fortune," Justin exclaimed with an ear to ear grin. "If it’s ok with you, when I go back to Pittsburgh I’ll takes these to show Lindsay. Who knows, you may have enough here for a small exhibition."

Digging more into the trunk, Justin noticed stacks of letters tied with silk ribbon. Holding a stack in his hand, Justin turned a worried look toward Claire.

"Uh, Claire, we may have found your deep dark secret."

"Justin, it’s getting very dark outside and these lanterns don’t give off sufficient light to read 100 year old letters. Let’s leave the letters up here for now. I’d rather look at them tomorrow or if you’re planning to stay for a few days, we can look at them when we have more privacy. The sketches can come downstairs with us now. What do you think?"

"I think that sounds like a good plan. Besides, I think the spider came back and wants us to leave."

"Okay. Let’s put this stuff back, except for the sketches and cover the trunk with the cloth. No one will come up here." 

Claire and Justin put back the rolls of canvas and laid the letters on top of them before closing the trunk. They then draped the cloth over the trunk and beat a hasty but controlled retreat down the attic stairs. Dusting themselves off and getting a couple of glasses of iced tea to wash the dusty feeling out of their mouths, Claire and Justin brought the sketches to the dining table to look at them under the bright light of Claire's chandelier.

Many of the sketches were pencil renderings of the paintings that hung in Claire’s home. There were also many portraits. Several portraits of Kinney’s wife and children and even more of Patrick, Kinney’s lover.

"This is definitely Kinney’s lover."

"How do you know that?"

"The portraits."

"Justin, I’m not following you."

"I do the same thing. I’ve done it ever since the day I met Brian. A day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t sketched a picture of Brian or a part of Brian. It started as doodles, no offense, dick doodles, as Brian calls them."

"Must have made some impression on you," Claire said with a blush.

"You could say that. But there were other things." As Justin looked at the pictures lovingly drawn by Kinney, he could feel the passion that Kinney held for Patrick. "See?" Justin held up a penciling of Patrick’s eyes. Never far from his own sketch pad, Justin flipped through the pages then slid the book to Claire. Claire gazed at a pair of eyes that so reminded her of her own son’s and of Jack. They were of Brian’s eyes, of course. But Justin drew them with the same love and passion that Kinney had. "It’s like I’m looking into Kinney’s heart. He did love his wife and look at the sketches of his children. He didn’t stop loving them, he just loved Patrick more or in a different way. Now I understand."

"Understand what, Justin?"

"Brian. For a long time it hurt to know that Brian could love and say he loves Michael but he’s never been able to say the words to me. He says them to Debbie, Lindsay and Gus but not to me. It hurt. But I think I understand."

"Justin, he loves you. Even a blind man can see how much he loves you. He just expresses his love without words. Brian plays with words all day long in his business. He knows the power of words, what to say and when not to say them. Maybe to him it’s the feeling behind the words rather than the words themselves that are important."

Justin nodded. Brian’s mantra was that actions spoke louder than words. He lived by it. Now Justin fully understood. Having an overwhelming need to be with his man, Justin made his excuses to Claire who stayed to examine the rest of the sketches.

As Justin joined the men out on the porch, Brian immediately noticed the wrinkle in Justin’s nose. Sensing that something wasn’t right, Brian got up and gave Justin a hug.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I think I’m a little tired. Do you think we can camp out in the treehouse tonight?"

"Sure. I already brought the sleeping bags up there and John got us an air mattress so these old bones of mine won't complain so much in the morning."

"Your bones aren’t old Brian. Just used to sleeping on a $400 mattress."

"Twat. Let’s say our goodnights and get ready for bed."

"‘Kay."

Brian and Justin said goodnight and took one of the lanterns to light their way to the treehouse. As they climbed the steps they heard Steve say goodnight as well and caught a glimpse of his own flashlight lighting his path back to the camp. John and Bobby went inside to join Claire.

Up in the treehouse Brian had the air mattress blown up and the sleeping bags were zipped together to form a warm soft cocoon. On the little table was an ice bucket and with a bottle of chilling wine. Two glasses sat next to the bucket. Brian lit a gel canister in the fireplace to complete the ambiance.

"And you said you don’t do romance," Justin murmured into Brian’s neck as he gave his ‘not’ romantic partner a hug and a kiss.

"I figured the next time we’re up here Gus will be with us, so I thought I might as well take advantage of our time alone. It seemed the practical thing to do."

"Let’s drink to your practicality," Justin said to Brian as he poured the wine into the glasses. Clinking their glasses together in a toast they each took a long sip. Brian, taking Justin’s glass, set it as well as his own on the table. Slowly Brian removed Justin’s clothing carefully putting them on one of the small chairs. He led Justin to the sleeping bags and settled him in. Then Brian topped off their glasses and handed Justin his glass. Justin sipped the cool crisp wine while Brian slowly stripped.

Instantly aroused at the sight of a naked Brian, Justin softly moaned into his wine glass. 

"Feeling better, little boy?"

"Much."

"Good. I promise to make you feel real good."

Having no doubts in Brian’s abilities, Justin finished his wine and lay down. Letting the warmth of the wine relax him, Justin settled himself and waited for his man.

Brian turned off the lantern; the fireplace offered a soft flickering light. He crawled into the sleeping bag next to Justin. Justin snuggled close.

"What was it?"

"Hmm?"

"What was it that spooked you?"

"Nothing spooked me. Claire and I found Kinney’s old art trunk. He had the most amazing sketches in it. They reminded me of the sketches I do of you."

"He did dick doodles?"

"No, silly. But he did do many of Patrick."

"And it reminded you of the thousands you did of me."

"Yeah. Lesbianic, isn’t it?"

"No, sweet. Just like you."

Brian carefully rolled on top of Justin, resting his forehead against the blond’s. Closing his eyes and inhaling Justin’s sweet scent Brian gently rocked their bodies together. Kissing Justin’s eyes, his nose and mouth, Brian began an oral assault on his boy. No patch of skin was left untouched by Brian’s mouth. Justin was a bundle of sensation, begging Brian to finish him off. Brian did just that. Swooping down on Justin’s aching, leaking cock, Brian finished completing his assault. Justin came, screaming his love for Brian. Brian cradled his spent boy in his arms.

"Mmm, that was so good. But Bri, what about you?"

"That was for you. You can pay me back in the morning."

"Thank you. I promise to pay you back real good."

"Sunshine, of that I have no doubt. Now sleep. I have a feeling tomorrow may be a busy day."

"Okay, night, Bri." Justin said, yawning widely.

"Night, little boy." Brian hugged Justin close and kissed the top of the blond’s head, wishing away any worries that might be floating in the blond brain. Soon Brian heard the soft snuffles telling him that Justin was asleep. Brian let himself relax then he too fell asleep, Justin still wrapped in Brian’s strong embrace.


	3. The Farm

Justin awoke with a start. He rolled over and into Brian's arms. 

"Finally waking up, sleepyhead?" Brian asked with a smirk.

"This air mattress was great. I slept like a baby."

"Yeah, I just got finished wiping the drool off my chest."

"I don't drool," Justin declared.

Brian's eyebrow shot up, but he kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to fight, and even though Justin did drool, it was kind of endearing. He knew he was becoming a fucking lesbian as soon as that thought rolled through his head. "Time to get up," he said abruptly.

"No morning treehouse sex?" Justin asked batting his eyelashes.

"I have to piss."

"Over the railing."

Brian glared at Justin. "I did that for Gus because he couldn't wait."

"I'm surprised you didn't have a latrine installed up here."

"Hmm," Brian replied looking around.

"You're not…"

"No, I'm not," Brian said with a smirk, "but it would be convenient. Get up."

"Why?"

"It's morning."

"I have something under here that might interest you," Justin said suggestively. Brian could see him stroking himself inside the sleeping bag. He watched the hand movement and his eyes began to darken with lust.

"Wait a minute," Brian said stepping outside and emptying his bladder over the railing. "Did you hold that thought?" Brian asked as he reappeared.

"I was holding something else," Justin replied as he threw back the top of the sleeping bag revealing himself in all his naked glory. His hand held his rigid cock upright just waiting for Brian.

Brian let out a growl as he flopped down next to Justin, his tongue licking through the slit of Justin's cock, eliciting a deep moan. Justin held his dick ready for Brian as the man began licking and sucking the head. Justin squirmed and moaned as Brian increased the intensity of his tongue action.

"Ah, shit!" Justin moaned as Brian deep throated him. With Brian bobbing up and down on his dick Justin gave himself over to the feelings that swept through his body. Brian always complimented Justin on his blowjobs, but it was really Brian who was the master. Justin cried out as Brian finished him off. Brian swallowed and looked at his flushed and satisfied partner. He waited for Justin to open his eyes, as he licked his lips. Nobody tasted as good as Justin.

"You look like a cat who just finished a plate of milk."

"I feel like one. You are … deeelicious!" Brian said against his ear. It sent shivers all over Justin's body. 

Justin glanced down at Brian's own hard on. "Want to fuck, big guy?" he asked with a grin.

Brian ran his hand down Justin's cheek. "I always want to fuck you. You know that, don't you?"

Justin nodded looking into the eyes he loved. "So what are you waiting for?"

Brian chuckled as he started rubbing against his lover. They were so good together. Rubbing turned to nips and bites and long, sensuous kisses. That was followed by a major rimming session before Brian finally entered his willing partner. They rode out the waves of pleasure that always swirled around them when they made love. Orgasm was the natural outcome, but it was also a by-product of their purest form of communication. Justin knew in those moments that Brian loved him more than anything on earth. And Brian knew that his love and commitment to Justin was the most enduring thing in his life. They had no doubts or regrets or fears in those moments. It was perfect.

They held each other tenderly when it was over. Justin turned his face up and they kissed. One last expression of what had just happened between them.

"Are you ready to get up now?" Brian asked with a smirk. The moment was over and Brian had to put the total emotion meltdown behind him. He could only deal with so much.

Justin knew this would happen. "I guess. Why are you in such a hurry?"

"I want to find out how John and Peter made out last night."

"You really care about what happens to them, don't you?"

Brian made a face but he didn't deny it. He grabbed Justin by the arm and pulled him up. They threw on some clothes and took the slide down to the ground.

After breakfast John, Justin and Brian made their way to the farm using the convenient shortcut. As they entered the yard they could see several boys in the process of feeding the horses, chickens and goats. John was one of them. Peter didn't seem to be anywhere around.

"Hey, John," Justin said looking at the boy who was sprinkling grain for the chickens.

"Did you come to take us home?" John asked hopefully.

"Afraid not," Justin admitted and watched John's face fall. "Don't you like it here?"

"I'm feeding fucking chickens! What's to like?"

"I used to do that when I was a kid," big John said with a grin. "Later I got to ride one of the horses as a reward."

"Bill said we have to be perfect for several days before we get a chance to ride. I'll never make it," young John said with a sigh.

"How be I speed matters up a little?" big John asked.

"You can do that?"

John grinned. "Anything for a relative … or a friend of Brian's."

The boy looked into John's eyes so much like his uncle's, but different. This man could do anything in John's eyes, especially if he could get him a ride on a horse.

"Finish up your chores," big John said as he headed for the farmhouse. "Brian, Justin, come along."

Brian and Justin followed him inside. There they saw Peter scrubbing the floor and he scowled at them, opening his mouth like he was about to curse them out. Then it clamped shut and he continued mopping the floor.

In Steve's office they all sat down. 

"How are they doing?" Brian asked.

"John's been fairly cooperative after what I told you about last night. Peter is another story. That's why he's scrubbing the floor. He refused to help with breakfast so he got none. When I assigned him his chores with the other boys he gave me a mouthful. So he scrubs the floor, gets no lunch and no one is allowed to talk to him."

"Do you think you're making any progress with him at all?" Brian asked.

"Not yet, but it often takes a few days."

"We thought we'd go for a ride," John said. "Can John come with us?"

Steve thought for a moment. "Peter's almost finished washing the floor. I'll assign him to help saddle the horses, and then he can watch John get his ride. That might drive home the concept of good behavior being rewarded."

Justin grinned. "You are evil."

"Not evil. I just understand how these young minds work."

In the barn both John and Peter helped the adults saddle the horses. It didn't escape Peter's notice that they were saddling four horses, one more than John, Brian and Justin would need. He wondered if Steve or Bill would take the fourth one. 

When everything was ready, big John helped Brian and Justin mount their horses. Neither had much experience with horses, but each had ridden a few times. Big John walked over to his nephew and boosted John up onto the fourth horse. John's grin was wide and excited.

"Hey!" Peter said. "How come he gets to ride?"

"Steve tells me John has been working and cooperating. That's all we ask of either of you."

"I've been working," Peter protested. He glared at his brother.

"Not willingly, and not without foul language," Brian said making eye contact with his nephew.

"Well fuck all of you!" Peter yelled as the riders moved away. "This isn't fair."

"The more you protest, Peter," Steve said coming up behind the boy, "the longer it will be before you get to ride."

"I don't want to fucking ride! I don't want anything from any of you. I hate you all!" With tears welling up in his eyes he ran into the bunkhouse and buried his head in his pillow.

Steve shook his head as he watched John bouncing along on the back of his mount. Peter was going to be a tough nut to crack.

"Uncle John," young John said when they returned from their ride, "thanks for getting Steve to let me do that. It was fun."

"You should thank your Uncle Brian. He was the one who got me to come down here this morning and see you guys."  
John looked at his uncle. Grudgingly he said, "Thanks." Then he began unsaddling his horse. He hoped his Uncle Brian went home soon. Then he could have Uncle John all to himself.

Since it was close to lunch, the rule was that if you want to eat, you help prepare the meal. All the boys were assigned a job and they had to serve the adults first before they got to eat. John's job was to get out the loaves of bread and cut them up for sandwiches. Peter was assigned the task of pouring out lemonade for everyone.  
At first John was perplexed, unsliced bread was a bit of a mystery to him. He looked around for an adult to ask for help. "Um, Uncle John, I've never cut up bread before, could you help me?"  
"Sorry, John, I have to discuss something with Steve and Bill. Why don't you ask your Uncle Brian for help?"

"I don't think he would help me."

"You won't know until you ask." Begrudgingly, little John walked over to Brian who was deep in conversation with Justin. Little John stood near Justin, a little afraid to interrupt them.

"What is it John?" Justin asked the boy. 

"I wanted to ask Uncle Brian something," John replied almost too softly to be heard. Brian looked up and readied himself for another insult.

"Uncle Brian, I have to cut up the bread for sandwiches. I didn't know that some bread needed to be cut, um, could you, ah, help me? Please?" Brian looked into the little boy's eyes; he wanted to tell the evil child to fuck off, but he didn't. This was the first time John ever addressed Brian with some sort of civility, Brian decided that his usual snark would be very inappropriate. "Yes John, I would be very happy to help you."

"Brian..." Justin, unsure of what may happen between uncle and nephew, was prepared to volunteer his services. 

"Justin, I realize that I have absolutely no skill in a kitchen and that I'm risking one or perhaps two of my fingers but I think I can handle being my nephew's assistant." Both little John and Justin looked up and tried to figure out if this Brian was the real deal or a clone. "Come on, John; let's find a cutting board and a bread basket. Don't want the bread to go sailing all over the place." 

"Okay." Brian and John went in search of bread slicing implements.

Big John came back to the kitchen and sat next to Justin. Not quite believing his eyes he asked Justin for verification. "Justin, am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?"

"Yes, you are. Amazing, isn't it."

"Definitely a Kodak moment. I'm glad we're making some progress with John; Peter is still another matter." John and Justin saw Peter struggling with the large heavy pitchers of lemonade, stubbornly refusing to ask for help. He got most of the glasses filled when he turned suddenly and knocked over a glass. It went crashing to the floor shattering into hundreds of sharp pieces. Brian yelled for Peter to freeze. "Justin, can you come here and help John finish with the bread, I'll help Peter."

Shocked but pleased with Brian, Justin got up to help John. 

"Peter, don't move. You're standing in a lot of glass; I don't want you to get hurt." Brian's use of his commanding business voice got through to Peter who remained frozen to the spot. Brian picked up a broom and began to sweep the glass away from Peter. When the floor was clear, Brian lifted Peter out of the surrounding debris. He shook him a little to knock off any remaining shards of glass then gently deposited the boy in the opposite end of the room. Bill, who came running out when he heard the crash, finished cleaning up as Brian examined Peter.

"You're not cut, are you?"

Peter, still shocked at what had happened and that he wasn't being screamed at for doing something stupid, answered in a squeaky tear filled voice. "No, I don't think so." 

"Sit here, I'm going to check your legs, okay?" Peter nodded as his eyes grew wide as saucers. As a matter of fact, all of the eyes in the room grew wide as saucers as Brian squatted and carefully checked Peter's jeans for any remaining glass and his legs for any cuts. Satisfied that there wasn't anything amiss with the boy, Brian stood up and exhaled loudly. "Phew, well that was a close one. Thank the gods you're not hurt. Your mother would tan my ass if I brought you back minus something. I'm hungry. You hungry? I think lunch is ready, let's eat."

"But, I'm not allowed to eat until I finish helping."

"I think you did a fine job filling all those glasses. I'll check with Steve first but I think it's all right for you to sit with us. Okay?"

"Okay." With the fixings for sandwiches on the table and the table set for lunch, the whole gang sat at the table ready to eat. "Steve, is it all right that Peter joins us for lunch. He finished his assignment."

"Yes he did. He deserves his lunch." Steve beamed at all his boys and the meal commenced without further ado.

After lunch, Bill had other jobs that needed to be done including milking the cows. Brian and big John decided to hang around and watch. Justin went back to the farmhouse. He was anxious to go back and take at better look in Kinney's trunk. Justin's curiosity into Kinney's life was getting the better of him.

\--------------------------------

"Claire, I'm back! Do you want to go back up to the attic?"

"Are John and Brian with you?"

"No, they decided to hang out at the farm for a while. You should have seen what happened. Amazing. I think this experience may be a good thing for everyone and I don't mean just for Brian's nephews. I'm really proud of Brian. It must be this place; his paternal side is showing."

"I don't think it's just the farm. Brian really cares about his nephews. He wants them to turn out right."

"Maybe. Anyway, are you ready to go back up and take a look at the letters?"

"No need. I went up after you all left. Other than the letters and the sketches, there's nothing really important in the trunk. I took a good look in it and unraveled some of the rolls of canvas. It's just plain canvas, nothing on them. I checked over the trunk, no hidden panels. I brought the letters down here. I have an old shoe box. I can store the letters in it and keep them in my room. As far as John and Brian are concerned, the trunk contained the sketches. Until I'm sure nothing in the letters can harm them, I'd rather we keep the letters to ourselves."

"I agree. How do we start?"

"We put them into chronological order and then we read them." 

There were four stacks of letters. Most of the correspondence was between Kinney and his wife. Several were to his lawyer and a few were to his children. Kinney tried to explain to his children his reasons for leaving them, asking for their forgiveness. Kinney's wife, Martha, was hurt by his need to be with Patrick but seemed to have eventually forgiven him. His son, Brian, never forgave the artist and didn't want anything to do with him. When he grew up Brian accepted his role as landlord; he eventually married and led a quiet respectable life on this estate. Martha never remarried and stayed on to help run the household, taking a secondary role to Brian's wife who, when she married Brian, became mistress of the estate. Kinney's daughter, also named Martha, inherited Kinney's artistic free spirit. The letters made mention of her sketches and paintings. Although she was sad that her father was not around, she eventually wrote to her father. A few letters were his responses. She never married, continued to paint and lived with her mother.

"Claire, later I'm going to look at the sketches again. Maybe they're not all Kinney's. Maybe some of them were done by Martha."

"Hmm, I never thought of that. That would be interesting, but they all look alike to me."

"Most artists sign their work. I'll look at them more carefully later. It's sad that Kinney and his family never got back together. I'm happy that our Brian was braver than that."

"So am I Justin, so am I."

They continued to read the letters, sharing their contents. It was slow going, but not because they were faded. The letters were in remarkably good condition. It was the elegant script that made it difficult to read.

"Justin, look, Kinney and Patrick started out in South America but somehow found their way to Mexico. It would be fascinating to find out if there's any record of them anywhere."

"Hmm, I wonder if I can get Brian to fly us down to Mexico for a vacation," Justin said with a very Brian-like tongue in cheek grin. Claire and Justin shared the humorous moment then put the letters away when they heard the boys coming up the path.


	4. The Farm

The Kinney men were sitting on the screened porch drinking coffee while Claire and Justin cleaned up from dinner.

"I haven't seen much of Bobby lately," Brian observed. "Is everything all right between you two?"

"We're great. Bobby has been pulling extra shifts at the Honey Bear. He has another payment due for his schooling soon."

"You don't help him out?"

"I've offered but he wants to do it himself."

"Where have I heard that before?" Brian chuckled.

"Justin feels the same way?"

"Yeah, he did take a loan from me a couple of years ago after his father kicked him out and refused to pay for his schooling."

"Did his father refuse because he's gay?" John asked.

Brian nodded. "His father would pay if he renounced who he was and went to Dartmouth."

"That's the shits! Thank God Claire didn't feel that way."

"I can't imagine Claire being that judgmental," Brian observed. He quite admired the woman.

"She had a lot to deal with when she was young. Being an unmarried mother back then wasn't easy."

"What did she tell you about your father?"

"That he had to go away and that he would come back for us if he could," John said sadly.

"And that was enough?"

"For … many years. And, and … then the teasing started as I got a little older. I only wanted to be the same as everyone else, be accepted."

"Is that why you fought the idea of being gay?"

"I guess so," John said carefully. "I didn't want it to be true. I thought it was a phase. I tried to take it out on any woman I could find. But I was never happy. It was never enough."

"And with Bobby?" Brian asked.

John smiled. "It's great. I know who I am now. I love him."

Brian looked at his brother, at how easily he said the three words that Brian had avoided for so long. He didn't know what to say, so he changed the subject. "I was wondering if it might be a good idea to bring my sister up here to see how the boys are doing."

"I think Steve would tell you that it's usually not a good idea until just before they go home."

"Why is that?"

"All the progress they have made can be wiped out by a parent who gets weepy and gives in to them."

"You don't have to worry about Claire. She'd never cry over her demon spawn," Brian said sarcastically.

"You'd be surprised. They've been gone for a couple of days now. I bet she's worried."

"You'd lose that bet," Brian stated.

"Then call her and see," John challenged.

Brian raised an eyebrow. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk to his sister. What could he tell her anyway? That the boys hadn't told him to fuck off quite as many times today. They still cringed when they had to be near him … and so did Claire if he was truthful. She hated him and that's where the basis of the boys' hatred came from. "I don't think so," Brian said slowly.

"Suit yourself," John said standing. "I'm going over to the Honey Bear to spend some time with Bobby while he works. I'll bring him home later." John headed out the door.

"See ya' later," Brian responded idly. He was lost in thought about calling Claire. He knew he should. Some part of him wanted to. He took his cell phone out of his shirt pocket and stared at it. After a minute he hit the last number on his programmed calls.

"Hello," Claire said.

"It's Brian."

"Oh, thank God. I've been so worried. Is everything all right? Are the boys behaving?"

"They're fine. They seem to be making a little progress," Brian said trying to keep it non-committal.

"Where are they exactly?" Claire asked.

"On a farm. They're working hard, learning some of the basics of life."

"Basics of life? What does that mean?"

"They have to work for their keep. If they don't do their chores they don't get fed."

"Oh my God," Claire moaned. "They're going to starve to death."

"Claire, they're not starving. I had lunch with them and they really packed it away."

"Are you telling me the truth?"

"No, I'm lying," Brian said sarcastically. "I just called you up to torment you." He was about to hang up when he heard Claire say something he thought he'd never hear.

"Brian, I'm sorry." Brian's finger hovered above the "end" button but he waited. "I'm really sorry. I know you're not lying. You didn't have to help me. Thank you for taking them." There was a long pause. "Brian, are you still there?"

"I'm here."

"I meant what I just said."

Brian blinked back some tears that were threatening. "I'll call you in a few days and give you a report."

"Thanks," Claire said as Brian cut the connection.

Two thank you's in the same conversation. Brian couldn't remember the last time anyone in his family had thanked him for anything. They were happy to take, and they expected him to give. But they never thanked him. They seemed to think he owed it to them because he had made a success of himself … no thanks to any of them.

Brian pocketed his phone and went in the house to look for Justin. He needed a reality check after that surreal conversation with his sister.

\-------

"Justin?"

"In the dining room."

"Wow, so this is your hidden treasure from the attic?" Brian said as he pulled up a chair and sat next to Justin.

"Yup, there's got to be at least fifty of them. I wish I had a magnifying glass. They're not all signed or the signature could be hidden in the sketch. Many artists do that. The penciling is a bit faded; I don't want to touch them too much."

"Now, I know you belong back in school. You sound like the History Channel again."

"Thanks, I think. Where's John?"

"He went to the Honey Bear to watch Bobby's ass at work. My big brother has got it real bad for that redhead. I'm surprised he ever lets Bobby out of his sight."

"They're in love, Brian. You can understand a little how John feels, can't you? Searching around for years for someone to love, for someone to come home to, to make love to, for someone to love you back."

"Yeah." Brian pulled Justin onto his lap and sighed into the blond's ear. "I'm beginning to understand lots of things."

"I think I've had enough of looking at old sketches. As wonderful as they are I'd rather look at you, naked, in the treehouse."

"Hmm, I think that can be arranged. Don't you want to go to the Honey Bear, and stare at Bobby's ass too?"

"Nah, I think my time would be better spent staring at your tight little ass."

"And that's the only thing that's little on me, twat."

"Asshole. Let's go take a nice shower. We still smell a little like the farm. I want to smell only you when we go to bed."

"Sounds like a good plan." Brian helped Justin put the sketches into the old portfolios and secured them with the straps. They bid Claire a goodnight then headed for the shower.

After their shower and donning sweat pants and t-shirts, Brian and Justin grabbed their lanterns and took the short trek across the front yard toward the treehouse.

"Brian? Are you going back to Pittsburgh tomorrow?" Justin asked as he started up the ladder.

"Yeah. I have to. As much as I'd like to hang around here and watch your bubble butt climb up and down this ladder all day, I'm needed at the office. We scored a few new clients last week. They all need babysitting until their campaigns are in full swing. Why, you want to stay on here?"

"I was thinking about it. It would be unfair to leave your nephews all for John and Steve."

"John has to go to work too. It's Bill I really feel sorry for. He's taking the brunt of the little demons. But I agree with you. I know parents leave their kids here all the time but I would feel better if you stayed, sort of en loco parentis."

"My feelings exactly and then I'll have time to look over the sketches more carefully. I may ask Claire if there's a craft shop or art supply store in town. I'd like to pick up a better portfolio for the sketches."

"Uh huh, and maybe a sketch pad or two for yourself?"

"Well, it is very pretty here, lots of subjects for me to sketch and paint."

"So, I gather that one of my credit cards will be staying with you."

"Brian, I will pay you back."

"I know you will. Besides like most good little gay boys you are a very good shopper. A credit to your race and to Emmett. Now that fag knows how to shop." The lovers shared a laugh; they both had been on the receiving end of one of Emmett's shopping sprees.

"Bri, have you noticed that little John kinda likes your brother?"

"Yes, I've noticed." Brian said with a sad tone that Justin could hear. "I'm sorry, Brian, I didn't mean to upset you."

"You're only stating the obvious. My nephews never liked me and when they learned I was gay, that put the nail in my coffin. John spent all his life in the het world. He doesn't look or act gay. Or what people think we should act like."

"Brian, do you know how ridiculous that sounds. I know many women who would swear on their bras that you weren't gay. And very few at Ryder or at Vangard were aware of your sexual orientation."

"True, my ass doesn't swish like someone in this treehouse."

"You like the way my ass swishes."

"Yes. I. Do." Brian punctuated each of his words with a kiss to the nose of the ass swisher, making Justin giggle. "I wonder if the shit is going to hit the fan if John and Peter find out that John isn't as straight as they think he is."

"You mean the horse shit?"

"Yeah, that too."

"I guess we'll find out. Brian..."

"Justin, it doesn't matter. I don't expect them to suddenly grow a conscience and decide to like me. I just want them to become more human, more tolerant. There's been too much hatred in my family. I'm tired of it." Justin sensed that some of Brian's protective walls were about to spring up. He knew he had to act quickly before Brian closed himself off.

"Brian, you know what else I'm very good at?"

"What?"

"This!" Justin pounced, catching Brian unguarded and rolled on top of the man. Pulling Brian's t-shirt up, Justin latched on to a nipple and sucked as if his life depended on it. 

"Fuck!" Brian cried out as all the blood drained from his brain and filled his cock. No more thoughts of demon spawn, out of the closet brothers and horse manure were possible. The blond and his ministrations were the only thoughts that Brian could muster. The last thoughts that registered in Brian's mind were the words spoken by Justin.

"I'll show you just how good my ass can swish." Brian could only grunt.

\-------------

Sunday dawned bright and sunny. As Brian and Justin slid down from the treehouse, they looked up at the clear, blue sky. There wasn't a cloud in sight. It was going to be downright hot.

After breakfast Brian and Justin made their way over to the farm. Brian thought he would like to take another ride and they needed to get it in before he had to leave to go back to Pittsburgh. Brian suggested they ride the horses through the woodlot and then circle back to the stream. They could take a swim and then fuck on the grass … provided a certain giant bullfrog was nowhere to be seen.

When they arrived at the farm, they saw Steve talking to Bill in the yard and walked over to the two men.

"Morning, lads," Steve said with a smile.

"You're smiling," Brian observed. "Guess you haven't had to kill the two little treasures I brought you."

"Not yet," Steve admitted.

"Is that a possibility in the near future?" Brian asked. Something In Steve's tone of voice made him wonder.

"They're a hard lot," Bill admitted shaking his head.

"I thought things were going better," Justin said.

Steve grimaced. "That's what's so hard about them. Just when you think you're making progress they revert to what they were like when they first came here."

"What happened?" Brian asked.

"They got up this morning … late. They missed their chores for breakfast. Had no explanation of why they were late, not that that would really make a difference. They know their responsibilities. They just choose not to do them."

Brian shook his head. "Their mother often let them away with things that she shouldn't have. She either screams at them or ignores their misbehavior. They've learned to ignore her."

"Sounds like we need to work with their mother before these two go back home," Steve said.

"You do that?"

"Yeah, when necessary, and it's often necessary with kids like these. The kids don't know how to behave because the parents never knew how to be parents."

"I think you just described my family in one sentence," Brian said sadly.

"Anyway," Bill said, "You guys here for a ride?"

Justin nodded. He looked over at the bunkhouse and could see the demon spawn watching them. "Are they allowed out?" he asked.

"Not unless they're prepared to work," Steve replied.

"Could they saddle the horses for us?" Justin asked.

Steve nodded. "Peter, John, come over here." Both boys brightened up, probably thinking that they had been sprung. They ran over to the men. "Go saddle the two horses your uncle and Justin used yesterday."

"Can I go too?" John asked.

Brian looked at Steve. Steve decided to be the heavy. "You didn't do your breakfast chores. You get no privileges until you make up for that."

"So I can't go?" John asked looking crestfallen. Then his face hardened and turned downright ugly. "I hate this fucking place. I can't do anything except work, and wait on you assholes. I'm not doing anything for any of you fags." John bolted for the bunkhouse as Brian made a grab for him. 

John escaped and Steve grabbed Brian. "Let him go, Brian. He'll learn his lesson eventually," Steve said.

"What about you?" Brian said to Peter.

Peter smirked. "John has finally come to his senses. I'm not doing any more work either." He sauntered towards the bunkhouse to join his brother.

"Fuck!" Brian reacted.

"They think they've won, but when they get hungry later today, it'll be a different story."

"Watch them. They're dangerous when they work together," Brian said as he went into the barn. He wanted to get on a horse and ride far away where there were no horrid nephews, only blue sky and blue eyes and a willing body.

Riding on the horses that were so gentle that the most inexperienced rider could handle, Brian and Justin made their way through the thicket toward the stream. At the bank, Brian jumped down and tethered his horse. He helped Justin down off his mount and tied the horse to another tree. The lovers stripped and took a dip in the cool stream. After some teasing and splashing around, Justin led Brian to the bank of the stream to lie in the warm grass. Brian looked up nervously.

"Brian, what’s the matter? You look as jumpy as a cat."

"Can’t help it."

"You worried that your nephews may see us?"

"No."

"What then?" Justin asked, very concerned for Brian’s fragile emotional state.

"The frog," Brian mumbled.

"The what?"

"The frog," Brian said louder and blushing with embarrassment. "I’m looking for that damned frog. I don’t want to be slimed before I go back to Pittsburgh."

Justin cracked up with laughter. As hard as he tried to contain himself, he couldn’t. Justin knew that he’d pay dearly for this indiscretion but he couldn’t help it. Brian looked too cute for words.

Brian did his best to look insulted and hurt that Justin was so inconsiderate but Justin’s laughter was way too infectious. Brian snorted then giggled then burst into a belly laugh. The lovers laughed like hyenas; the tension brought on by the terrible duo melted away. Brian grabbed Justin and hugged him close to his chest.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"For this, for making me laugh, for being you." Justin looked up to gaze into the hazel eyes that were sparkling with flecks of gold. He silently thanked whatever gods that were watching, blessing him with this complex bundle of contradictions known as Brian Kinney. Justin kissed Brian then let Brian lead their way in making love.

Afterwards, the lovers washed away the sweat and cum in the stream, dressed then remounted their horses for the ride back.

"Justin, let’s have lunch back at the house. I don’t want to ruin my good mood by dealing with the spawn."

"Good idea, besides, it’s a long ride back to the Pitts. You don’t need to start out with road rage.

 

"Claire, after lunch I’m heading back to Pittsburgh. Do you mind if Justin stays for the week? I’ll come back next weekend and bring Gus if Lindsay gives me the okay."

"Brian, that’s an excellent idea. I’d love to see Gus, and Justin and I can spend more time with the sketches."

"He’s got you wrapped up in his little mystery, doesn’t he?" Claire smiled at Brian and nodded. Still keeping the discovery of the letters from John and Brian, the time alone with Justin would make it easier for them to read more of the letters.

"Perhaps when you return, your nephews will have made more progress."

 

"One can only hope," Brian replied only half believing what he said.

With lunch finished and Brian all packed, he kissed Justin, gave Claire a hug and a kiss and said his goodbyes to John and Bobby. They waved as they watched the Cherokee drive down the lane.


	5. The Farm

Justin moved into the main house now that Brian was gone. He didn't like the idea of sleeping in the treehouse without his partner. He helped Claire with dinner Sunday night and sketched a bit and they looked at a few more letters. However, Claire liked to read them in the daytime finding it easier to read the difficult hand of the writer in the light of day.

Sunday passed into Monday and Justin told Claire he was going to walk over to the farm Monday morning to see how the boys were doing. He had promised Brian to keep an eye on them and send progress reports. Justin sincerely hoped it wouldn't be a "lack of progress report" that he would be relaying to Brian.

He wandered into the yard and saw laundry being strung along one of several lines that had been set up between the bunkhouse and the main building. There was a boy pinning shirts to the line. Justin approached him.

"Is it laundry day today?" he asked hoping to strike up a conversation.

"No, this is virtual reality and I'm stuck in Hell," the boy replied with a snarky attitude.

Justin smiled slightly and asked," Is Steve around?"

The boy nodded towards the main building and Justin headed that way. As he opened the door, he could hear raised voices and he was sure he recognized one of them.

"I don't fucking know how to do laundry, and I'm not touching someone else's dirty underwear," John said.

Justin groaned inwardly. This couldn't be good.

"John, you know what the rules are. You are responsible for one load of laundry this morning, and it just happened to be underwear," Steve explained calmly.

"I'm not doing it," John stated.

Justin stood inside the door and listened. He wished he knew a way to fix things for John and Peter but they brought grief on themselves and wouldn't thank him for any interference.

"This is not negotiable. You do your chores or you get no privileges and no food."

"I'm not doing it," John said again.

Justin wondered where Peter was and if he had put John up to this defiance. He stepped into the laundry room. "Excuse me," Justin said. Steve looked up and shrugged. "Could I have a few minutes with John?"

"Sure," Steve replied and went out of the room.

"Do you know how to do laundry?" Justin asked. John shook his head. "If I show you will you try it?"

Justin watched John's face light up. He thought maybe he could teach the boy something and make life better for everyone. It was worth a try.

"You always sort clothes by color and whites," Justin began.

"Why?"

"Whites will absorb color so you don't want to mix them or you might have to wear pink underwear."

"Like you?" John sneered.

Justin wanted to shake the little asshole but he ignored the comment. "Then you set the controls. Hot water." Justin turned the dial.

"Why?"

"Whites can take hot water, colors will fade."

"How the fuck do you know all this shit?" John asked.

"I learned the hard way, by fucking up all my clothes."

"And then you get new ones," John said with a satisfied grin.

"Not if you have to pay for them yourself."

"Doesn't Uncle Brian pay for you?"

"Not usually. I try to pay my own way."

"Then what good is he to you?" John demanded. Justin wasn't about to explain that.

"He's a selfish bastard," John declared. "Mom always says so."

"Brian is not selfish! He does lots of things for many people."

"Like what?"

"Um…" Justin hesitated. He knew Brian wouldn't want his nephews or anyone else to know about his charitable acts. How could he explain about Concerned Citizens for the Truth or the Liberty Ride or Vic Grassi House?

"See, he's a selfish bastard," John said smugly.

"I'm not arguing about this," Justin said. "You add the fabric softener in this ball and then choose the cycle you want. These are considered 'delicates'."

"Delicates," John sneered. "Like you?" he repeated with venom in his voice.

"Push 'start' and wait," Justin said and went to find Steve. He should have known better than to try to help Brian's asshole nephew. All he ever got was aggravation. He found Steve and told him what had happened. Steve didn't seem surprised. He said they had a long way to go with those boys. He and Justin talked about what might be tried with them in the future. 

After a few minutes Justin and Steve heard someone hollering somewhere in the building. They bolted up and raced down the hall to find John completely covered in soap suds coming out of the laundry room. He was batting huge wads of bubbles away from himself and coughing and sputtering.

"What have you done?" Justin yelled.

"I … I didn't do anything," John said. "Justin filled the machine."

Justin opened his mouth to deny it, but didn't get the chance. Steve grabbed John by the scruff of the neck and propelled him back into the laundry room. Holding onto the boy he managed to turn off the washer. He fought through the suds finding a mop and pail.

"Start cleaning up this mess. You stay in here until it's fixed to my satisfaction," Steve said doing his best to keep his voice level. He gave John a shove into the suds and walked out of the room. The door closed from the outside and Steve slammed it shut, turned the deadbolt lock and brushed the suds off his clothes.

"I didn't put in too much soap," Justin said lamely.

"I know you didn't," Steve grinned. "Don't think for even a second that John's the first kid to think he can sabotage this place by overloading the washing machine."

Justin studied Steve. He supposed the man had seen just about everything from these kids. "Do you think he will clean it up?" Justin asked.

"Doesn't matter. The suds evaporate eventually, and he'll get sick of standing in a pool of water. And then he gets hungry. It'll get done eventually."

Justin shook his head and smiled. "Do you think I could call you on the phone to get the next report on those two?"

Steve smiled and clapped Justin on the back. "Come back in the office and I'll give you the number."

Justin returned to Claire’s house immediately after getting the phone number for the farm. He couldn’t stand one minute longer being anywhere near the spawn. And he was beginning to think this it was impossible for the boys to change. Trying not to be disappointed and dreading the phone call he’d eventually have to make to Brian, Justin let himself back into the house.

"Back so soon?" Claire said with a sunny expression.

"Yeah, it was laundry day and it was John’s turn at the washing machine. I was trying to help by showing him what to do. But he purposely overloaded the machine then tried to blame it on me. I had to get out of there."

"Justin, it’s only been a few days. These things take time. You’ll see, by the weekend, real progress will have been made."

"Do you really think so?"

"I’ve seen it happen. Now, you ran out of here so quickly that I’m sure you didn’t have a proper breakfast. Let’s have a little something to eat then we can go into town. The Kinney sketches are in remarkable condition but they won’t be for long in those old portfolios. We have a decent art store. I think you can find something to do the sketches justice."

Justin smiled one of his sunny best, pleased that he and Claire were on the same wave length. After their breakfast, Claire and Justin went to town.

It was late in the afternoon when Claire and Justin got back to the house. Claire immediately went to the kitchen to prepare the fixings for dinner. Although both John and Bobby were working, they would be home for dinner. Claire wanted dinner ready for them. This gave Justin the opportunity to transfer the sketches into the new portfolio. He examined each sketch carefully trying to determine if Kinney drew them or could it be a sketch by Martha. Using the magnifying glass that he bought, Justin discovered that Kinney did indeed sign all of his sketches. Neatly in the lower right hand corner was his ‘JABK’ and the date. Martha was a bit creative with her signature. The work of female artists was not always appreciated and for many years they were outcasts in the artistic world. Martha’s signature was hidden in her work. And it often looked similar to her father’s, only a trained eye could decipher the difference. Pleased with his little discovery, Justin set aside the sketches to read more of the letters.

The letters were still slow going but Justin was beginning to understand the script and style of writing as he went along. Many of the letters were boring, Kinney writing to his lawyer, making sure his family was well looked after. The dates indicated that it could take many months for a reply to reach Kinney. One letter took almost a year to reach the artist then several months to get back to Pennsylvania. The letters moved faster when Kinney and Patrick finally settled in Mexico close to the Texas border.

One letter piqued Justin’s curiosity. It intimated that there were many other paintings in existence, not just the ones that Claire had in her home. Kinney had painted many landscapes and the people of South America and Mexico. He had shipped them back to his wife for safe keeping and for Martha, hoping that eventually they would increase in value and become more of a legacy for them.

Noting it was getting late and John would be returning soon. Justin packed up the letters and returned them to the safety of Claire’s room. Joining Claire in the kitchen, Justin said, "Claire, I put the letters back in your room."

"Good, John and Bobby will be home soon. Dinner should be ready within the hour."

"Smells good." Before Justin could elaborate his stomach did. "Claire, the paintings that were hanging in your hall, are they the only ones that you know of or do you have more in storage?"

"I may have one or two up in the attic but that’s all I have. I’ve never seen any others. You have to remember that the main house burned down. Maybe they were lost in the fire."

"When was the fire?"

"I’m not sure. Obviously Kinney had already left the country. And Aidan never mentioned a fire so I assume it must have been around the time that Brian was master of the manse. Why do you ask?"

"I’m not sure; it may be nothing. Your house, the house that you grew up in, is that still standing?"

"Yes. Actually, now that you mention it. My cottage, that’s what we called it because it was rather small, may have been part of the original mansion, or a late addition to it. I believe it was the cook house at one time. It does have the largest kitchen that I’ve ever seen and only two bedrooms. It was later renovated but only two or three people can live there comfortably. I rent it out for extra income."

"Does it have an attic?"

"No."

"Oh." Justin said very disappointedly.

"But it does have a root cellar."

"A root cellar!" Justin exclaimed; his hopes went up a notch.

After dinner Bobby decided to go over to the farm and check on Brian's nephews. Justin had told them what happened with the laundry and that he had no intention of going back to the farm for several days. Bobby said he'd go get a firsthand report that Justin could relay to Brian.

About an hour later he returned chuckling to himself. Everybody wanted to know what was so funny. He told John to get them some beers and he'd tell the story. When they were all seated on the screen porch with their libations, Bobby started his tale.

"It seems that the nephews have been getting into trouble quite regularly. Whatever they are required to do as chores they are trying to sabotage," Bobby explained.

Justin groaned. "I was afraid of that. John tried to sabotage the laundry. What else have they done?"

"Steve had quite a list," Bobby chuckled. "They were supposed to weed the vegetable garden. Steve found them sitting under a tree eating carrots they had just pulled."

"At least the carrots are good for them," Claire observed.

"True," Bobby agreed, "but you haven't heard the best part. When Steve caught them and started reading the riot act, Peter told him that they had seen a rabbit munching on the carrots and had scared it off. They were merely eating what the rabbit had left behind."

"Holy shit!" John reacted. "How stupid do they think Steve is? Nobody would believe that cock and bull story."

"They're city kids," Bobby replied. "To them that probably seemed like a feasible story."

"So what did Steve do to them?" Justin asked.

"That's the good part. He told them that if they finished weeding the garden in the next hour they could eat all the rabbit reject carrots that they could find."

"But why is that funny?" Justin asked.

"They were done in no time," Bobby said. "They ate their fill of carrots which the boys can have anytime they want anyway, and they think they put one over on Steve. He in the meantime got them to cheerfully do their chore."

"That's genius," Justin said with a grin.

"The next part's the best though," Bobby explained. "You should have seen Steve's face when he was telling me."

"What do you mean?" Justin asked.

"He showed the boys how to hand milk the cows," Bobby said.

"Hand milk as opposed to…?" Justin said.

"As opposed to using milking machines," John explained. "Steve likes the boys to do the work manually on the farm. It reconnects them to the earth, to animals, to where they came from."

Justin nodded as Bobby continued. "So Steve demonstrates how to milk. John sits down beside Bossy and Peter was with Flossie."

"Do they all rhyme?" Justin giggled.

"There's also Mossy and Posse," Bobby laughed. "They were getting desperate he added as he spelled the name of the last cow. Anyway, Peter starts pulling the teat. Nothing happens so he pulls harder. Nothing happens so he gives Flossie's teat an almighty yank. She lets out a huge moo and turns her head and butts him off the stool onto the barn floor. Peter is indignant, but Steve tells him that he has to learn to milk a cow before he can go home. Apparently Peter said something about never being able to escape the hellhole of the farm. Flossie mooed again and emptied her digestive system making it splatter all over Peter's shoes and pant legs. John got some milk from Bossy immediately thereafter and promised to show Peter how to do it the following day. Steve sent them both off to do laundry on their shoes and jeans."

"Oh, they'll be shitting themselves," Justin grinned.

"Or bossy and Flossie will do it for them," John laughed.

"Steve says to tell Brian he's charging him for psychiatric fees for Flossie. She has been traumatized and hasn't stopped mooing ever since," Bobby said with a chuckle.

"Oh, now Brian will shit!" Justin responded.

"Poor Flossie," Bobby said. "We went to look at her in the barn. She has this wild look in her eyes and moos pathetically. I really do think she needs counseling."

"Don't we all where John and Peter are concerned," Justin said shaking his head. He hoped Brian wouldn't be too upset with his nephews. Maybe he should get Bobby to talk to him. He could make it a funny story and take Justin off the hook of one of Brian's tirades. With all his twenty years of wisdom Justin decided he'd make that call later.

********** 

"Hey."

"Hi."

"What’s wrong or should I take a wild guess."

"Yeah, it’s the spawn. I’m sorry Bri; I don’t think this is working. Matter of fact, I think they're getting worse. It’s a whole waste of time. And they’re taking up space that some really needy child could use. I’m sorry I didn’t try to talk you out of this."

"I’m not. Look, I knew there was a good chance that none of this would work but I, we, had to try. If nothing else, my sister has 2 weeks of quiet. Maybe her mood will improve and she actually will have the time to wash her hair."

"But Brian..."

"No buts, unless it’s your fabulous butt. You and Claire have fun with your little mystery of the sketches. Leave the spawn with Steve and Bill. It’s only been a few days. By the end of the two weeks they’ll either be so hungry or so bored that they’ll beg me to take them home. I can torture the evil bastards all the way there."

"Okay."

"Cheer up Sunshine, it’ll work out. You’ll see. Now where are you and are you naked?"

"Brian!"


	6. The Farm

Over the next couple of days, Justin took Brian’s advice and ignored the farm and the potential horrors that may be happening over there. Justin concentrated on the letters. Claire’s time was taken up with her church jumble sale so Justin was on his own during the day. He enjoyed having the time alone to sit and read the letters and to get reacquainted with his own art.

He packed up the letters, his sketch pad and pencils, made a few sandwiches and he and Beau, who also enjoyed the quiet, would go to the stream to sit by the rock. It was a peaceful retreat along the bank of the stream. Justin would read some of the letters then put them aside to sketch. By Wednesday, Justin had filled his pad.

Wednesday afternoon found Justin again by the stream. He had almost finished reading all the letters and was disappointed that they garnered little information. Justin was coming to the conclusion that whatever paintings Claire had were the only ones in existence. Then he came upon a sentence written by Kinney to Martha.

"The rumors of war persist. I fear we must leave this place for a safer village. I am sending all my work to you for safe keeping. I understand you owe me nothing. I have only brought shame upon you and our children. For them I ask if you would keep the paintings safe. Sell what you will if the sum is tidy. I hope that in some way I can be of use to you."

Justin wasn’t quite sure what war Kinney was referring to but he intended to find out. He also thought it was about time that the letters were made known to John and eventually to Brian. There was nothing in the letters that could harm either of them. On the contrary, if Justin could find the paintings, a small fortune might be the result. He would consult with Claire before he did anything. If what he surmised was true, for the next phase of his mystery, Justin would need help.

***********************

Claire arrived home fairly early that evening. Justin helped her to prepare dinner and they discussed the contents of the letters.

"Claire, I think we should tell John and Bobby about the letters. There’s no need to tell Brian yet. I can show them to him when he comes this weekend."

"I agree. The letters only confirm what we already know. Kinney and Patrick left the country and eventually settled in Mexico. I’m sorry to say that history was never my strong subject but John always loved history when he was in school. I bet he could help."

"So, we tell them at dinner?"

"Agreed."

As dinner was winding down, Claire began to reveal the latest mystery.

"Jackie, I’d like to discuss something with you and with Bobby, of course."

"Oh, oh. Whenever you call me Jackie, it’s not good."

"That’s not true."

"Mother, what is it? Are you all right?"

"I’m fine; Justin and I want to tell you something?"

"Please don’t tell me that Justin has gone straight and you and he are leaving for Canada. I don’t want to break Brian’s heart when I tell him the news."

"What?" Claire and Justin both exclaimed then stared mouths open at John.

"I’m sorry, you looked so serious, I needed to liven things up a bit."

"John, if it had gotten any livelier, Justin would have had a stroke," said Bobby dryly. 

"Can we focus here!" Justin said becoming very frustrated. "Look, Claire and I found more than just some old sketches in the attic. We found that Kinney had written to his wife and there may be more paintings hidden around here, somewhere." Justin paused to catch his breath and scan the faces of his audience. "I need some help with something that Kinney wrote to Martha. Martha was his wife."

"What did he write, Justin?" Justin had John’s full attention.

"He mentioned that there was a war coming and they, he and Patrick, needed to leave their village. I don’t know what war he was talking about."

"Where were they living? I thought they were in South America," Bobby questioned.

"It seems that when Kinney left he did join Patrick in South America but then they made their way to Mexico somewhere near Texas."

"The Alamo." John stated.

"What?" three voices rang out.

"Justin, you discovered that Kinney lived from 1802 to 1879. He probably was married by the time he was twenty and started his family. It was a hard life back then, most people were dead before age thirty. It was the affluent who lived longer. The events of The Alamo happened around 1835-1836. You said that Kinney and Patrick settled in Mexico near Texas. That could be the war he feared. What makes you think there are more paintings?"

"He wrote to Martha to ask her to keep the paintings safe. He and Patrick had to leave and he didn’t want to leave the paintings. He sent them here."

"If that’s true, do you think they could have survived all this time? Mom, you told me that the original house burnt down a long time ago."

"True, but if Martha was so careful with the trunk she may have been equally careful with the paintings."

The room became quiet as the four tried to digest all that they had learned. After a few minutes Bobby made a suggestion.

"Justin, I’m off tomorrow, I can help you search for the paintings but do you have any idea where they could be?"

"Yes!" Justin said in all confidence.

"Justin, don’t get yourself all worked up over nothing. They may not be there."

"But Claire that’s the only place that makes any sense."

"Would somebody mind telling us what the hell you two are talking about? What place?" John looked back and forth from his mother to Justin.

"The root cellar," Claire said.

"What root cellar?" Both John and Bobby asked.

"The root cellar under the cottage."

"There’s a root cellar under the cottage! Mother, why is this the first I’m hearing about this?"

"I had the cellar sealed up when you were born. Let me explain. When I found I was pregnant I came here to live with Aidan and Patience."

"I know all that."

"After a while my parents softened up, especially after you were born. You were a beautiful baby. So happy, so sweet and loving. But you were also a precocious and curious child. You got into everything. I asked my father to seal up the root cellar. We never used it but it had two entrances, one from inside the house in the kitchen and another entrance from outside. My father sealed up both so that you couldn’t get in."

"Well that explains a lot."

"What do you mean, John?" Bobby asked as he moved closer to John and took his hand.

"I’ve always been interested in how things were built, the materials, the structure. This house has an attic for storage. If the cottage was the original cook house for the mansion, it would only make sense that a root cellar would be a part of it. There was no such thing as refrigeration, so most grand homes had to have a root cellar to store food for the winter. At one time I was going to try to find the original plans for the mansion, I had no idea what I was going to do with them, just call it curiosity."

"Huh. Claire, could we go there tomorrow and look?"

"I don’t see why not. I know where the entrance was in the kitchen. There’s a false panel along one wall, it shouldn’t be too hard to open, and the door is behind it. We’ll need lanterns and may be a ladder. The old stairs may have rotted away."

"Justin, I don’t have any clients to see tomorrow and my foreman can handle things; we’ll all go. It may be dangerous. Let’s get a good night's rest and we’ll load up the truck with the things we’ll need. I’ll make a list now."

The next morning Claire was up with the birds to make a hearty breakfast for the boys. While she was cooking, Bobby and Justin helped John pack up the gear they would need in his truck. Anxious and bouncing on his toes, Justin wanted to go to the cottage. He forced himself to eat breakfast and listen to John’s instructions.

"If we find the entrance, I’m going down first." Cutting off Justin before he could protest, John continued. "Justin, if the stairs still exist they may look solid but be rotted through. I’m not risking any of you."

"But John, I’m probably the lightest one of all of you. Wouldn’t it make sense for me to try the stairs?"

"No. If the stairs are there I’m going to demolish them then drop the ladder down. We’ll secure the ladder to the foundation then lower a lantern. I’ll let you go down but not before I put you in a harness and we’ll secure that too. We go nice and slow. Is that clear?"

"Yes, John." Claire, Bobby and Justin replied.

********************

At the cottage, Claire unlocked the kitchen door as the boys unloaded the truck and started to bring the tools and ladder into the house. The quaintness of the cottage pulled at Justin’s artistic heart. He stared in wonder at the stone structure.

"This is beautiful Claire. I’d love to live in a cottage like this."

"Justin, I rent out the cottage sometimes. You're welcome to stay here any time."

"Really? I think Brian may like it too. I know he loves his loft but sometimes there’s too much traffic."

"You mean outside, the street noise?"

"No. I mean all the people who come in and out." Bobby and John started to giggle, remembering the night they stayed at the loft and all the people who barged in and out.

"I don’t think I understand." Claire was perplexed.

"I’ll explain later, Mom. I promise. Let’s open the cellar before Justin tries to do it with his bare hands."

Claire showed John the false panel which he easily removed. The door to the cellar offered little resistance to John’s crowbar. As he suspected, the stairs seemed to be intact. Taking a heavy sledge hammer, John tapped the first step. It crumbled into dust.

"Just what I thought. Bobby, hand me that rope." They watched as John looped one end of the rope through the handle of the hammer. He lowered the hammer to each step, tapping as he went. Each step crumbled.

When the steps were gone, John lowered his ladder and temporarily fastened it to the frame of the door. He then lowered a lantern to the floor and tied off the rope.

"Well, Justin, this is your show. Let’s get you harnessed up and we’ll secure you to the center island. It’s made of granite. I guarantee you won't fall."

"John, I don’t think you should tell Brian that you got Justin in a harness. He may take it the wrong way." Bobby laughed as he got out the words. John cocked his head then laughed as he finally got it.

"Bobby, can you lower the other lantern as Justin goes down. Try to keep the lantern to the side but level with his feet."

"Will do."

Working together, Justin slowly descended into the cellar, John letting out the slack of the rope attached to the harness and Bobby lighting his way. At the bottom, Justin took the lantern and began to explore.

"Do you see anything?"

"Not really and it's very cold."  
"That’s the purpose of the root cellar. If they’re constructed correctly they maintain a mean temperature of about 50 degrees. It helps to preserve food," John stated.

Looking up at the three faces, Justin nodded then added. "And that’s a good temperature to store paintings."

Treading slowly and adjusting to the dim lantern light, Justin made his way to the far end.

"Hey, I think I see something."

"What?" Claire shouted down.

"Wait." Stacked against the far wall and protected by thick heavy oil cloth were what Justin hoped were the paintings.

Upstairs, in the kitchen, Claire, John and Bobby waited impatiently. They couldn’t see Justin but they heard him scratching around and then a loud gasp.

"Justin, you okay?" John shouted. "Justin? Hey, Sunshine! What the hell are you doing?" John yelled in his best Brian voice.

"They’re here! They’re all here! Oh my god! There’s so many of them." Justin walked back to the ladder.

"Well, let’s get them up here and have a look." Claire said.

"No."

"No?" All three answered back. "Why?" they again said in unison.

"We can’t move them, not until we have a special place to store them. I’m coming up and I’ll explain."

John and Bobby helped Justin up the ladder. Claire put the kettle on.

"As much as I want to look at each painting I’d have to check with Lindsay or maybe with Sidney Bloom. He’s the owner of the art gallery she works for. The coolness of the cellar has preserved the paintings. If they’re suddenly removed they may crumble like those stairs. I’ll call her and get her advice."

"Can we look at them down there?" Bobby enquired.

"I think so but I would only recommend we go down one at a time. The carbon dioxide that we exhale could also ruin them. They need to be examined, cleaned and possibly conserved. I’m really not sure."  
"Then let’s not take the chance. Call Lindsay when we get back to the house and we’ll abide by what she and Mr. Bloom suggest."

The mystery hunters left the ladder and tools in the kitchen. John secured the door and replaced the panel, keeping the root cellar air tight. They went back to the main house to call Lindsay.

After consulting with Lindsay and Sidney, they all knew that Justin had made a very wise decision. Sidney told Justin that he would arrange for a special temperature controlled truck to go up on Friday and he himself would supervise the removal of the paintings. Lindsey would arrange for conservators to meet the paintings when they got back to Pittsburgh. It might take several weeks to sort everything out but this would prove a very valuable find.

After hanging up with Lindsay and Bloom, Claire announced her decision. 

"I think if the paintings prove authentic and valuable I’ll consult with Lindsay and perhaps your friend Ted. He was very helpful the last time. If any money is to be made, I’d like it to go to the farm. Steve has struggled with it for so many years. Donations are not always reliable. The proceeds of the paintings could maintain the farm for years."

"Mother, that’s an excellent idea." John said, hugging his mother. "The money would go to a very worthy cause. Justin, I know you and Brian have been disappointed in the lack of progress made by your nephews, but this is cause for celebration. Call him. See if he and Gus can come up on Friday too. We’ll celebrate in style."

Justin smiled and went to call Brian.


	7. The Farm

Justin showed Sidney Bloom down the ladder to the paintings in the root cellar. Sidney had a camera with him and took pictures of the find before the paintings were disturbed. He wanted to chronicle the discovery of the paintings as well as the sketches and letters. Sidney felt the whole lot would make an excellent exhibit. He carefully lifted and examined each painting before handing them to Justin who passed them up the ladder to one of the men who would wrap the painting then place it in the climate controlled truck.

By the time Sidney handed the eighth painting to Justin his excitement was palpable. "This is a phenomenal find, Justin!" he gushed. "When Lindsay told me about it I could hardly believe that there could be so many J.A.B. Kinney paintings that had gone undiscovered all these years. They're in remarkable condition considering where they've been kept."

"It's cool down here which helped," Justin said as he handed another painting up the ladder. "Plus the cellar has been boarded up and no one has disturbed the paintings for many years."

"Very lucky indeed," Sidney replied as he handed the last painting to Justin. "Twelve, a nice even dozen."

"Do you think there will be a market for them? Claire wants to sell them and give the proceeds to a youth farm that operates on her property."

"That's very generous," Sidney said with a frown. "Are you sure she realizes the value of these paintings?"

"Most definitely she does."

"If she will allow me to clean them and advertise the sale, I think she's looking at close to a million dollars for the lot."

"Fuck!" Justin reacted. "That's way more than I thought."

"There's a market for gay artists and Kinney was one of the first to make his sexuality an issue, even if it was rather unwillingly."

"You seem to know a lot about Kinney," Justin said thoughtfully. "I just found out about him a few weeks ago."

"I really like Kinney's work. I think I could do justice to the sale of his paintings."

"I'll talk to Claire about it. After the paintings are cleaned maybe she'll come to Pittsburgh and meet with you."

"I'd like that. I was hoping to meet her today," Sidney said.

"She does some volunteer work on certain Fridays of the month. This was her day."

"Well, I'll look forward to seeing her in Pittsburgh soon," Sidney said as he climbed the ladder.

The climate controlled truck and Sidney's Mercedes were just pulling out of the cottage drive when Brian's SUV arrived at John's. Justin waved as he came down the driveway behind the truck and Brian stopped by the road waiting for Justin to catch up.

"Hey," Brian said as Justin climbed in. They leaned towards each other and shared a gentle kiss.

"Hey," Justin smiled as they broke apart. "I missed you."

"Me too," Brian grinned.

"Justin," Gus said from the back seat.

"Hey, buddy, I didn't forget about you. I'm happy to see you both."

Gus smiled back and said, "Treehouse!"

"It's still here," Justin laughed. "You want to sleep in the treehouse tonight?"

"Yeah," Gus said. "With you and Daddy."

Brian and Justin exchanged a glance knowing they would have to find some time for the grown-up boys to sleep together before they had to go to the treehouse with Gus. Their dicks had been idle for far too long already.

"Is Claire or John or Bobby home?" Brian asked.

Justin shook his head. "The guys are working and Claire is volunteering."

Brian did his best to stifle a groan of disappointment.

Some time later they had got settled in. Brian suggested that Justin take Gus for a swim and he would go to the farm and check on his wayward nephews. He would join Gus and Justin when he came back.

As Brian walked into the yard of the farm he spotted John and Peter in the vegetable garden off to one side of the bunkhouse. The boys looked up and he thought he saw John give him a little smile but it quickly faded. Peter just looked defiant.

"Hey, boys!" Brian called.

Neither replied. Brian frowned and glanced over as he saw Steve come out of the house.

"Brian," the man said warmly.

"Are you still speaking to me after I dumped those little assholes on you?"

"They're not so bad."

"I hear I'm paying for major cow therapy," Brian chuckled.

"We'll discuss that later, but I wouldn't go near Flossie if I were you."

"I'll take that under advisement. What's up with those two?" Brian asked cocking his head in the direction of his nephews.

"They're on strike. They refuse to speak."

"Fuck!"

"It's all right," Steve said. "Much quieter this way. They're doing their work and not sabotaging things at the moment."

"So how is silence a protest."

"In their minds it is, and they could have done a lot worse things, so let them carry on."

"That's exactly what I'll do. I'll come over once more to see them before the end of the weekend."

"That's good. Maybe we'll have better news then."

As Brian walked back towards the stream, he wondered if anything would ever get through to his two nephews.

Joining Justin and Gus at the stream, Brian quickly stripped down to his shorts and waded in. The cool water was a soothing relief from the heat of the August day and the heat generated by Brian’s annoyance over the spawn. Determined not to let his nephews ruin his weekend with his boys, Brian put them temporarily out of his mind. The three splashed about until grumbling stomachs told them it was time to go back to the house.

"There you are!" Claire picked up Gus and gave him a noisy raspberry to his cheek. Gus giggled and hugged her neck. "I’m glad you came up." Claire continued and she gave Brian a kiss to his cheek. "There’s a certain young man who’s been missing you." Claire nodded toward Justin and watched his pale cheeks start to blush.

"Oh? I thought with all this solving of hundred year old mysteries and digging up of some old paintings, you wouldn’t have time to miss me." Brian countered back while prying his son off of Claire so that she could start dinner.

"Brian, you know that a day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t thought about you, don’t you?" Justin replied looking up through his lashes, his blush deepening.

Brian and Justin stared at each, lost in their feelings. The heat of their longing for one another was almost palpable.

"Gus, would you help me with dinner. John will be home soon and he’s going to be real hungry and I know you’re a little hungry too after your swim. Why don’t you sit here in the big chair, you snack on carrots and keep me company. Then you can tell me all about the stream. Is that okay with you?"

Gus beamed at the thought of sitting in the big chair and having an adult concerned about his day.

"Brian, do you think you and Justin can bring this bone out to Beau? He’s in the barn. Sometimes he gets stubborn so I don’t expect you back for at least 30 minutes. Dinner should be almost ready by then. Gus and I can have a nice long chat." Claire grinned and winked at Brian. Now it was Brian’s turn to blush. But he remembered his manners as he gave Claire a kiss and whispered a thank you into her ear. Grabbing the bone in one hand and Justin with the other, Brian and Justin went to the barn to deliver Beau’s bone.

Beau greeted the lovers at the door of the barn, graciously accepted the offering and found a quiet patch of hay to enjoy it. Brian led Justin to the ladder of the loft storage area and watched as Justin ascended. Momentarily bewitched by Justin’s ass as he climbed, Brian’s mind raced with calculations. How many different fucking positions could they achieve in thirty minutes? Still deep in thought, he didn’t notice that Justin had made it to the loft and was looking down at him with an ear to ear grin.

"Hey, big boy! You gonna day dream about my ass all day or you gonna get up here and fuck it?" 

Brian snapped out of his reverie, climbed up the ladder and pounced on his boy.  
As fast as they could, the lovers rid themselves of their clothes. Their hands feverishly working while trying to keep their lips locked in an all consuming kiss. By the time they were naked they were already panting with need and desire. Brian got the supplies he had from his pocket and quickly readied himself and Justin. After a week apart, Justin’s tight ass felt tighter, as Brian slowly entered. Two loud groans echoed throughout the barn. 

Needing the intimacy of seeing each other’s face during their love making, Justin’s legs were over Brian’s shoulders. Justin’s toes began to curl as he felt himself filled by Brian’s long cock. Buried balls deep into his boy, Brian waited until they both regained control, their mutual orgasms threatened. Brian eased out halfway then re-entered, slowly finding a controllable rhythm. 

Folded in two and helplessly locked within Brian’s arms, Justin gave himself over to each thrust, trusting in Brian’s mastery and in his compassion. The momentary twinge of pain, gone. All that remained was the pleasure.

Brian pleasured Justin as well as himself, angling each thrust so that his cock raked over Justin’s prostate. The moans and gasps spilling from Justin fueled Brian’s passion. Brian, truly a master of sexual pleasure, kept fucking until Justin screamed and shot hot ropes of pearly cum all over their chests. Brian gritted his teeth and rode out the waves of Justin’s orgasm.

Grabbing an ankle in each hand, Brian held Justin’s legs far apart then pounded the blond until he too came, filling his condom. Brian had just enough energy left to ease Justin’s legs down and carefully withdraw from Justin’s still spasming ass. He plopped down next to Justin in the soft hay. Both men spent and breathless.

"Mmm, you have the best ass in the whole world," Brian whispered into the blond’s hair.

"At least in the state of Pennsylvania," Justin chuckled back as he snuggled into Brian’s chest.

Brian wrapped his arms around the boy but commanded, "Don’t get too comfy, our thirty minutes are up." Justin groaned but he nodded. He remained on Brian’s chest a minute longer then reluctantly he got up to sort out their clothes. They quickly got dressed.

"Come on, Gus must have talked Claire’s ears off by now. We didn’t swim that long today." Justin nodded handing Brian his shirt. Brian used it to wipe down Justin then himself. He stuffed the soiled shirt into his back pocket then descended the ladder. At the bottom, he waited for Justin.

"Sore?" Brian asked while gently patting Justin’s rump. 

"A little, but it’s a nice sore." Justin replied, stretching up to kiss Brian’s brow that threatened to furrow. "I may need a pillow to sit on at dinner."

"How about you sit on my lap."

"Mmm, I like that idea. But I think Gus may beat me to it."

"Justin, you and Claire solved your mystery and there’s nothing we can do about the Satan spawn except leave them in Steve and Bill’s capable hands. Come home with me on Sunday. The loft seems too quiet."

"I thought you liked quiet."

"I do but you’ve gotten quieter as you’ve aged."

"Uh huh. Well then I guess I should go home with you. We can be quiet together."

"Yeah, I love being quiet with you." Brian slung his arm over Justin’s shoulder as they headed back to the house.

Justin snaked his arm around Brian’s narrow waist, "I love being quiet with you too." 

John was already there when the lovers came back from feeding Beau. "Did Beau enjoy his bone?" John asked sweetly.

"Oh yes, he enjoyed it tremendously!" Brian answered with his patented grin.

"But I see he must have given you both a difficult time of it. Not only are you both covered in straw; Brian, you seemed to have lost your shirt in the process. I think dinner can wait for a few minutes while you two get cleaned up. Gus has been so helpful with dinner and he helped John get the treehouse ready for tonight." Claire chuckled at the lovers.

Brian and Justin, taking the hint, ran off to clean the sex off of them.

With Bobby working late at the Honey Bear, it was the five for dinner. Pulling Brian aside while they were clearing the table for dessert, Claire made a suggestion.

"I didn’t want to say anything in front of Gus, but why don’t you take him to Hershey or to the Amish country. Gus would enjoy it. I’ll leave the pamphlets on the table; after Gus falls asleep you and Justin can discuss it."

"Good idea." 

After Gus had bedded down for the night, Brian and Justin took the slide down and sprinted to the house. Claire sat in the porch so she could keep a watch on the treehouse while Brian and Justin looked over the travel pamphlets. They agreed that bringing Gus to Hershey would make a wonderful day trip.

 

Saturday morning Justin, Brian and Gus set off for Hershey Pennsylvania. They had read the brochures and planned what they were going to do. They would start with the Hershey Trolley Works where they would ride around the town in a vintage looking trolley listening to the history of the chocolate hub of the world.

When they finished the trolley ride Brian was sure he already knew more about chocolate than he would ever care to know. Gus was getting a little restless so instead of going to Milton Hershey's home for a tour they decided Gus would like the Hershey Factory Works better.

When they arrived they were signed up as workers at the factory and got a badge stating just that. Brian rolled his eyes but Gus and Justin proudly wore their badges as they got ready to package Hershey Kisses that were coming along the conveyor belt. Brian ended up helping Gus as Justin was having too much fun bagging his own. After a minute Brian got into the swing of it and Gus' giggles were infectious. When they were done they of course received some Kisses to eat. Even Brian indulged in one and helped Gus to eat several.

They then moved on to the Chocolate Works Machine where they could capture cascading Hershey products and make up their own personalized assortment of candy. Gus was more fascinated with the cascade than the actual chocolate. He loved pushing the buttons to get his special concoction.

By this time Brian decided that his two boys needed some real food to supplement the chocolate they had been devouring all morning long. It was already almost two, so they made their way to the KitKat Café where they were able to purchase real food. Justin and Gus each got a sandwich and Brian opted for a salad. He thought he should restrict his caloric intake after all the chocolate they had been bombarded with all day.

When they finished lunch Gus had gotten his second wind and wanted to go work in the factory again. Brian was sure he really wanted the chocolate Kisses at the end, but they went through the process once more. By the end of this Gus had chocolate all over his face and clothes and was beginning to fade. They decided it was time to head back to John's.

Gus did his best to stay awake on the ride back, but he dozed off. When they pulled into the driveway he woke up and looked at the older men from sleepy eyes. He had chocolate ringing his mouth and looked adorable with his chocolate laden T-shirt.

"Tired, Sonny Boy?" Brian asked as he helped Gus out of his booster seat.

Gus nodded and leaned his head against his father's shoulder. He was just about out. Brian carried the sleepy boy into the house and Claire told him to put Gus on her bed for his nap. She handed Brian an afghan to cover him even though it was a warm day.

When Brian came down Justin was nowhere in sight. Claire said the young man was waiting for Brian in the treehouse. She winked and Brian raced out to their hideaway. He quickly climbed the ladder and found a naked Justin waiting patiently, or maybe not so patiently. He was sprawled on top of the sleeping bags, stroking his dick and moaning softly.

"How dare you start without me?" Brian demanded looking at the tempting sight before him.

"I couldn't wait," Justin said with a grin. His eyes were hooded and full of lust. "I missed you so fucking much all week long."

Brian's clothes evaporated and he dropped down beside his lover. "You're just a horny teenager," Brian said with a smirk.

"I'm not a teenager anymore," Justin chastised. "But I am horny and I did miss you."

"Me too," Brian replied earning him a big grin from his beautiful blond.

"So when are you going to do something about it?"

"About what?"

"About the horny part," Justin said with a scowl. He knew Brian was playing him.

"Um … right now," Brian stated capturing Justin's mouth with his own. Kisses and caresses led to what they both wanted and needed. It was very satisfying after their all too brief encounter in the barn.

Finally Brian rolled onto his back and studied the ceiling of the treehouse. He let out a long breath and turned to look at Justin. "You okay?" he asked with a frown.

"Better than okay," Justin smiled. He studied his partner. "Is something wrong?"

"I was thinking about how Gus was today. He had fun, didn't he?"

"He had a great time."

"We're not … spoiling him, are we?"

"Spoiling him? Where is this coming from, Brian?"

"I … I think Gus is great. Most of the time he's happy and it doesn't really take much to entertain him." Brian paused and Justin waited. He knew something important was brewing in Brian's mind. "But sometimes he shows his stubborn streak."

"Like his father's?" Justin asked with a grin.

Brian's face sobered completely. He looked into Justin's blue eyes. "You don't think he'll turn out like me, do you?"

Justin frowned. "What do you mean? He could do a lot worse."

"Yeah, like my fucking nephews! The Kinneys sure make great role models!"

"Gus is not going to be like your nephews," Justin stated.

"You can't be sure of that. I … I worry about him."

"Come here," Justin said pulling Brian on top of him. "Gus is a great kid. He will never need the farm to straighten him out. He has two great mothers and a great father, so stop worrying." Justin gave Brian a long, soft kiss and then cooed, "Fuck me again, Brian. We need to use every opportunity we get. We're sleeping up here with Gus tonight, remember."

Brian groaned and then started humping against his willing partner. "Let's not waste any more time," Brian said as he sheathed his cock. When he drove into Justin he did his best to banish his worry about Gus and his nephews. What would be, would be.

When the sated lovers returned to the house after their tryst, Claire told them that Gus was just wakening and they had time for a shower before dinner. Working later that night at the Honey Bear, Bobby had time to join them for dinner. Claire shooed everyone out of her kitchen so she could work on her feast. She had five hungry boys to feed and she needed the room to do it.

Brian and Justin found Gus still on Claire’s bed, stripped him down and prepared for their shower. It was a tight fit in the old bathroom but they managed. Gus loved to shower with his dads, making him feel like a big boy.

After the shower, all three squeaky clean big boys in their clean clothes joined the rest of the family in the dining room. Each family member picked a chore to help Claire. Bobby and Justin helped Claire with vegetables and salad. John got out the iced tea and milk while Gus and Brian set the table.

At dinner, Gus regaled the family about his day. Brian grumbled about how much chocolate he was forced to eat and about how fat he was going to get. The adults just stared at the youthfully thin Brian in disbelief. 

Gus just reminded his daddy of how much he was loved. "Daddy, you’re not fat. Besides, there would be more of you for me to love." Gus crawled onto his daddy’s lap then reassured Brian how so unlike the spawn he really was. "I had the bestest time today. Thank you, daddy."

"I had the bestest time too, Sonny Boy." Brian closed his eyes as he hugged Gus. Justin was right, as usual, Gus would turn out all right.

After dinner, Brian and Gus helped Justin to pack up his stuff for the ride back home to Pittsburgh the next day. They agreed that there was no reason for Justin to stay. Justin had filled two sketch pads, there was nothing to do about the evil nephews except to trust in Steve and the farm and the Kinney mystery was laid to rest. Brian was restless and wanted Justin all to himself.


	8. The Farm

During the week that Justin and Brian returned to Pittsburgh Claire's boys had a semi-eventful time. They continued with their silent strike thinking somehow they were punishing Steve and Bill and the other boys by depriving them of their words of wisdom. Most of the other people at the farm were only too happy not to have to listen to their continual belly-aching about how hard done by they were.

On Monday they were assigned to making salad for lunch. The cook who supervised all the meals showed them how to wash the lettuce, spin it dry and then tear it into bite sized pieces. When the cook went to help some other boys who were assigned to cooked vegetables, Peter tried to start a food fight with his brother. He had thrown the first handful of lettuce when Steve walked in to check on them. A fistful of lettuce hit Steve in the chest as Peter ducked to avoid John's retaliation.

Both boys froze. They wondered what horrible new job they would be given to atone for this most recent sin. John remembered when Uncle Brian had stuck his head in the toilet. Peter thought back to all the screaming matches he had had with his mother.

"Pick up all the lettuce you have cleaned," Steve ordered deliberately not raising his voice.

The boys looked at each other. Peter shrugged and lifted the bowl in which he had already placed all the lettuce he had torn up. John picked up the salad spinner in which he had placed a whole head.

"Outside," Steve said and waited for the boys to pass him and exit the building. Each carried their container of lettuce.

When the boys had disappeared from view Steve winked at the cook and the other boys. He nodded towards a couple of heads of lettuce lying untouched on the counter. They split the heads and each took about half a head. 

"Now," Steve said and they ran out the door firing hunks of lettuce at Peter and John. Taken by surprise, Claire's children stood and were pelted for a whole minute. Then they realized they had their own ammunition and began throwing chunks of lettuce back at their attackers. Bodies shucked and ducked and ran and jumped. Laughter and shrieks filled the air. The battle raged unchecked for several minutes. Finally the lettuce was used up and lay in limp clumps all over the ground. 

Peter bent down and found a handful which he threw at Steve. Steve batted it away and grinned in triumph. Sweating and panting the group stared at each other.

One of the other boys broke the silence, "That was fun."

A chorus of, "yeahs" greeted his statement.

"I'm sweating like a pig," Steve declared. "Let's go take a quick dip before dinner."

"I don't have a bathing suit," Peter said.

"Come anyway," Steve replied. "It's hot and the water will feel nice."

Peter shook his head and so did John. Steve shrugged and the rest of the group including the cook took off through the trees for their swim.

"I wish we could have gone," John said sadly as the group disappeared from sight.

"Well we can't."

"But…"

"No buts. Do you want them to know that we can't swim? Then they'll tease us all the time."

"I guess you're right," John agreed.

"I am right."

"That water would have felt real good though."

"Go take a shower," Peter said with a frown. "It's all we ever get."

\-----

By Wednesday Peter and John had forgotten about their silent strike. Having spoken during the lettuce fight it seemed rather pointless to try to continue it. They were mostly cooperating and doing their assigned chores. 

Wednesday was blistering hot. One of those August days that takes your breath away with the heat and humidity. Steve called all the boys together in the yard after lunch. 

"Since the heat is unbearable we're all heading for the stream in an hour," Steve announced.

There was a round of cheers and applause. 

"Can we stay all afternoon?" one boy asked.

"Don't see why not. Cook's bringing a pot and hot dogs. That'll be dinner."

"Yay!" everyone yelled. Everyone except Peter and John.

"Go get your towels and suits," Steve said. "Assemble here in one hour."

The boys scampered off. John looked at Peter as they headed back to the bunkhouse. Neither knew how they were going to get out of this.

When the boys were ready to leave for the stream, John came out of the bunkhouse and walked over to Steve. "Peter's not feeling well," John said. "I'll stay here with him."

"He seemed all right a few minutes ago," Steve replied.

"He's got pains in his stomach. Maybe food poisoning."

"I doubt that," Steve said with a frown. "Bill, take the group to the stream. I'll be down in a few minutes."

Bill nodded and he, the cook and the band of happy boys headed into the woods.

"Let's go check on your brother," Steve said.

"He'll be fine if I stay with him," John said. "You go on and have your swim."

"Not without you two."

"What do you care whether we go or not?" John demanded.

"There's no reason you shouldn't enjoy this place like the other boys."

"We … we hate it here."

"Not half as much as you'd like me to believe," Steve replied.

"What … what do you mean?"

"I saw how much fun you were having during the lettuce fight."

John grinned at the memory. Then his face sobered. "It was fun, but why did you do that. Didn't we waste food?"

"What's a few heads of lettuce when there's a war to be won?" Steve smiled.

John grinned. "I thought you were going to make us eat all that lettuce that we had torn up."

"That would be cruel."

John studied Steve's face and saw only kindness and caring in it. He frowned again. "Peter's not really sick," he said. 

"I know."

"You do?"

"You two don't know how to swim, do you?" Steve asked. 

"How? How did you know?"

"Let's get Peter and I'll teach you both to swim."

"I don't think he'll let you teach him," John hesitated.

"With your help he might. Get him up and bring him to the stream. I have a call to make."

With Big John's help Steve was able to get each nephew to do a dog paddle and float a little bit in the stream that day. Little John knew he liked his namesake and he only looked up to his uncle even more when the man managed to teach him the rudiments of swimming. Peter let Steve school him in the fine water arts. The cool water was a major incentive for the boys to learn enough to enjoy the water and not drown in the process.

When the group got ready to make their way back to the farm, Peter looked at Steve. "I still hate it here," he said seriously.

"Of course you do," Steve grinned.

Peter scowled at him and walked away with the others. Steve winked at John and followed the merry little band of misfits back to the farm.

Back at the farm all the boys broke up into small groups to do their evening chores. 

Tonight it was John’s and Peter’s assignment to water and feed the small herd of sheep, goats and of course, Daisy, the little donkey that Gus had had the pleasure of riding.

It was a relatively simple task. Turn on the spigot to fill the water trough, add some more hay and grain to the feed trough and roll a new salt lick into the pen. All in all, about 15 minutes worth of work which would earn the nephews and the rest of the boys who completed the day's chores, a special dessert sent over by Claire and some of her church group. The most important instruction the nephews received was to secure the pen for the night. The farm was a crop farm. A herd of sheep and goats could do considerable damage to the crops in a short span of time.

Peter and John argued about who was going to do what. Their 15 minutes was quickly turning into 30 and they were on the verge of missing dessert.

"Hurry up!" yelled John at his brother who was having a difficult time with the old spigot. 

"I’m hurrying! Got it," Peter shouted back. He slammed the gate closed then ran to join his brother who was already walking towards the cookhouse.

Thursday morning and another hot steamy August day. John had business in Pittsburgh so it was agreed that Claire would take the drive into the city with John. While John was seeing his new client, Claire was going to visit Sidney Bloom and the gallery. Justin and Jennifer would join Claire there and they would all have lunch together. 

The meet with Sidney went well. Claire was shocked at the interest the Kinney paintings produced. With Claire’s permission, the Bloom gallery would announce a show of gay artists with the primary focus on Kinney and his work as well as Martha’s sketches. Any gay artist could submit a sample of his or her work; the best would be displayed alongside of Kinney’s. After the show, Kinney’s work would go up for auction, the proceeds to be given to the farm. 

Brian joined Claire, Jennifer and Justin for lunch. He had an announcement of his own to proclaim.

"It’s too damn hot to work. I rearranged my schedule for tomorrow. If it’s okay with you Claire, we can drive you back to the farm and stay the weekend. John called me and said his meetings are running late. I’d love a cool dip in the stream, providing the frog keeps his distance."

The little group laughed. Brian did his best to maintain the scowl on his face but he couldn’t and laughed along with them. A little after one, Brian, Justin and Claire were heading back to the farm.

With little traffic on the road, they arrived at the house before four. As Brian and Justin stowed their duffle bags in the treehouse, Claire came running out of the porch.

"Brian! You need to get to the farm now. There was a message from Steve; the boys are missing. If you take the lane toward the cottage you can be there in 5 minutes." Brian just about heard Claire’s directions as he went running toward the farm with Justin close at his heels.

"What happened?" Brian asked of Steve as he ran into the yard. 

"The boys went missing. At first we didn’t know they had gone. It wasn’t until we rounded up the sheep and goats that we noticed that they didn’t help and they were nowhere to be found. The sheriff’s been alerted as well as the state troopers. If they stick to the main roads we’ll find them quick. We have several hours before dark."

Panting and very worried, Brian stood unconvinced. "Steve, take it from the top. You said that they were making some progress. Why would they run?"

Steve explained to Brian about last night's chores and the explicit instructions to secure the pen gate. This morning found the sheep and goats loose and many in the cornfield. Only Daisy had enough sense to stay in the pen. It took several hours to get all the sheep and goats back into the pen and to survey the damage. By lunch time everyone, four legged and two, was accounted for except for John and Peter. That’s when they initiated the search.

"Where have you looked?" Justin asked.

"We searched all the buildings, and then took some horses to search the fields and the neighboring woods. The sheriff notified the troopers and some of the local crop dusters. They can fly low enough to spot them."

"What’s that noise? Is that a crop duster?" Justin looked up toward the sky.

"No, the grain silo is being filled. We don’t use much so it should be done soon." Just then the annoying noise stopped. "There, all done," Steve said.

Brian, deep in thought and silently berating himself for putting his nephews in danger, walked a few feet away, his shoulders slumped in defeat. He stopped for a moment then turned toward Steve and Justin.

"The silo!" Brian shouted then took off at full run toward the silo.

Reaching the door before anyone else, Brian pulled it wide open. In the dim light he could just make out two lumps buried chest deep in the grain. The air was thick with grain dust.

"I need help!" Brian shouted out again then plunged into the grain. Reaching Peter first, Brian grabbed the boy and yanked him out of the grain. Steve, Justin and Bill were close behind.

"Move carefully." Bill cautioned. "Grain dust is highly flammable, any spark could ignite it." 

Brian gently passed the unconscious boy to Bill who handed him off to Steve. Brian dug in a little more to reach John. Picking up the semi-conscious boy, Brian carried him out of the silo. Justin closed the door and followed the group to the bunkhouse.

Bill called for the local doctor to meet them all at Claire’s. They all agreed that the boys would be more comfortable at her house. Getting the boys into Steve’s pickup, Bill drove to Claire’s.

"Brian, bring them upstairs to the guest room. There’s an air-conditioner in that room. We can cool them off slowly while we wait for the doctor."

Brian stayed while the doctor examined the boys and other than a slight case of dehydration and a severe case of the frights, the boys were fine. The prescription was rest, plenty of fluids and when sufficiently recovered, a switch to the behind for being so foolish, scaring the be-jeezus out of everyone and nearly getting themselves killed.

Brian concurred with the rest and fluids but drew the line at the switch. The old doctor nodded then gratefully accepted a glass of iced tea and a plate of cookies from Claire before he left.

That night Brian kept vigil in the guest room. 

The next morning John stirred first, cracking open an eye, only to find his Uncle Brian staring back at him with bloodshot eyes.

"W…Where are we?" John stammered.

"You’re safe. You’re at Claire’s house; she’s John’s mother. How do you feel?"

"Okay, I guess. Peter! Is Peter okay?" John panicked looking at his sleeping brother.

"Yeah, don’t worry. We had a doctor check you both out. What’s the last thing you remember?"

"After breakfast, there was a lot of shouting. I guess we didn't shut the gate to the sheep pen good enough. They all got out. I thought we were going to be punished, so we hid. Uncle Brian, Peter didn’t want to hide, he was going to confess. I made him hide in the silo. I got hot and I felt dizzy. I don’t remember much more."

"You were missing for a long time and the silo had more grain put in it. If you weren’t found when we..." Brian couldn’t continue; the full impact of what might have been hit him. He shuddered then recovered enough to reassure the frightened boy. "It doesn’t matter. The two of you are safe. I’ll have your clothes brought here. I’ll take you home tomorrow."

Before John could answer Brian got up and walked out of the room.

Justin, who had spent the night on the sofa, awoke when he heard Claire in the kitchen and helped her with breakfast. She was about to call Brian and check on the boys, when she saw Brian walk out of the house and keep walking until he reached the maple and the ladder for the treehouse. Instead of climbing up, Brian sat on the step and buried his head in his hands. Justin was about to go out to Brian when Claire stopped him.

"Justin, I’ll go. Bill brought the boys’ clothes. Why don’t you take them up and show the boys where they can shower. Then bring them down for breakfast." Justin hesitated, he felt sure his partner needed him. "Justin, he does need you but right now I think he needs a mother more." Justin looked into Claire’s eyes and saw the truth of what she had said. Reluctantly, he took the boys’ bags and went upstairs.

In spite of the heat, Claire filled two mugs with strong coffee then went out to Brian.

"Here, I think you need this." Claire said as she handed Brian his mug of life.

"Thanks," Brian responded as he took the offered mug. "I’m going to take them home tomorrow. I should have never brought them here. They could have suffocated in that silo and it would have been all my fault." Brian’s guilt was getting the better of him. The Pennsylvania countryside was about to experience a major Brian Kinney queen out.

"Brian, before you do anything too hasty, I suggest you ask Steve and Bill first and then ask your nephews if they want to leave. I know you said two weeks but Steve wanted a chance to meet their mother. He was making the arrangements before the sheep got out."

"Claire, I know you mean well but how can I keep them here. They could have died in there and no one would have known."

"Thanks to you, they didn’t die."

"Thanks to me, they would have never been up here in the first place."

"Brian Kinney, I never thought you were a quitter!"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"How dare you quit on those boys now, just when they need you the most."

"Claire, they don’t need me; they hate me. I represent everything that they hate. I’m a fag, and a fag with money."

"Brian, you’re a strong, self made man, with a lot of love that you keep buried in your heart. Don’t give up on them now. Jennifer and I had a long chat that night we first met. She told me about Justin, the bashing. Don’t turn away, hear me out. Jennifer told me how during Justin’s recovery he was angry, bitter and he had horrible mood swings. It was your patience, your love that helped him to overcome so much and recover."

"Did she also tell you that if it wasn’t for me Justin may have never been bashed in the first place?"

"No, Brian, that’s not true. That boy Chris had hate and fear in his heart. He would have done it sooner or later. He just chose that moment. This is the same thing. Your nephews are clouded by fear and hate. Something would have happened to them sooner or later. You saved Justin that night and you saved your nephews yesterday. Everyone knows that, and so will your sister. Everyone, except for you."

Brian gazed into Claire’s reassuring eyes. The tears he thought he was fighting back, won. Claire held on to Jack’s son as he cried in her arms.

It was some time before Brian was able to go back into the house and face his nephews. He grabbed some clothes to shower first before making any decisions.

Justin got the boys showered and they were all eating breakfast in the kitchen when Claire came in. John and Bobby had appeared for breakfast and the boys looked at them curiously. John was tempted to tell them that he and Bobby were partners, but thought maybe this wasn't the best time. After a bit they both headed out.

Claire looked at the boys. "So, I see you two have made a considerable dent in my breakfast. I think it’s about time we were formally introduced, don’t you? My name is Claire Anderson, John is my son and this is my house. I expect you two to behave. I don’t tolerate abusive or foul language, especially from youngsters like yourselves. While you are here you will treat my family with respect. Do I make myself clear?"

Mouths stuffed with buttery biscuits, John and Peter furiously nodded. John looked at Peter with horror in his eyes. It dawned on them that no matter how tough Steve was, Claire would be tougher. Going back to the farm was beginning to look appealing.  
Finishing his biscuit and swallowing hard, Peter bravely asked, "Miss Anderson, what’s going to happen to us today?"

"Well after breakfast, you two can help me clean up the kitchen. Brian was up for most of the night watching over you two. He was worried sick. If it wasn’t for him, well I’d hate to think what would have happened if he didn’t have the smarts to figure out where you two were hiding. Justin, maybe you can convince Brian to get some sleep. He can bed down in John’s room. You look like you could use some more sleep too."

"I’m all right. I can take the boys to the stream for a while."

"Maybe later. Don’t argue with me. Go lay down for an hour. Then you can take the boys."

"Okay. Thanks," Justin answered with a yawn. He left John and Peter to Claire while he went to find Brian and get him to lie down. Brian, too tired and too emotionally spent to argue, followed Justin to John’s bedroom and then passed out.

Claire put the boys to work but made sure they didn’t overdo and that they drank plenty of fluids to replenish all they lost from the previous day. A couple of hours later a refreshed Brian and Justin found the three busily baking cookies.

Brian stood at the kitchen door shaking his head. Even in the heat, Claire’s cool head prevailed. He marveled as the spawn, without a whine or bad language, took Claire’s direction. Again Claire worked her miracles. Seeing Brian smiling at the door, Claire suggested that the four go and cool off by the stream while she baked. 

This time no one had any objections. 

Justin grabbed his bag. He was thinking about Sidney Bloom’s art show and thought he would submit a piece. Brian grabbed a small travel chess set in hopes of teaching Justin. Claire packed up several bottles of water, fruit and snacks for them to take. The four set off for the stream.

Finding a shady patch, they dumped their stuff, stripped down to their shorts and splashed at the water’s edge to cool off. Justin, anxious to get started on a sketch, got out of the water first so he could get comfortable with his sketch pad. Peter followed and sat beside Justin.

"You can draw?"

"Yes, I can draw and I paint. There’s an art show coming up soon, I want to submit a piece. Do you like to draw, Peter?"

Looking around to make sure no one was listening, Peter nodded and whispered, "Yes, I love to draw but I can’t do it at home 'cause they think it’s stupid. Sometimes I do it at school."

"I don’t think drawing is stupid. Brian doesn’t either. He can draw a little but his talents lay mostly in creating ads. He’s like an artist when he puts an ad together, only he uses words as well as drawings. Would you like to draw something with me? I have another sketch book and more pencils."

The boy beamed and happily began to draw a nearby dandelion with Justin’s direction.

Brian got out of the water and sat under a tree to dry off and have a smoke. Seeing his prospective chess partner occupied with a sketch pad, he sighed then set the travel chess set aside for later.

John walked up and plopped down. Spying the chess set, he ventured the question. "Fags know how to play chess?"

"Fags know how to do lots of things. You play?"

"A little, my father tried to teach me, before he left us."

"Set them up."

By the time all the water and snacks were finished, another sketch pad was filled and Brian won several games of chess.

"You played well," Brian complimented his nephew.

"Yeah, but you won every game."

"That’s only because you haven’t learned the strategies yet. You learn fast; you’ll beat the pants off of anyone real soon." John looked at his uncle with clearer eyes. Brian didn’t yell at him for what happened yesterday and he took genuine interest in teaching him the game. Maybe John’s Uncle Fag wasn’t all that bad.

Peter also had a great time. Justin loved to draw and was very enthusiastic about it. Peter felt he could talk to Justin about his love of art. Justin told Peter the story about the artist Kinney. It fascinated Peter that he had a famous ancestor. He wanted to go back to the house so he could see Claire’s paintings. He was about to ask Justin if he could go to the art show when Brian and John walked up.

"Going to submit a piece for the art show?"

"I was toying with the idea."

"I think you should. It was your discovery that led to the show, to everything; your work belongs there. Maybe we can bring John and Peter to see their ancestor’s paintings," Brian said.

Justin smiled one of his best at Brian, then packed up the sketch pads and pencils. When they got back to the house Steve was there. Steve, Claire, Brian, Justin and the boys sat in the living room to discuss their options.

"Brian, Claire tells me you want to bring the boys home tomorrow and that’s within your rights as guardian but I think you may be doing them a disservice if you do. Before you protest, hear me out. I spoke with the boys’ mother and suggested she spend some time with one of our counselors. I know what the boys did was foolish but I think they learned a valuable lesson." Steve paused to look at the boys. He saw them nod almost imperceptibly but a nod nonetheless.

"I don’t want them in danger," Brian admitted to Steve and to himself.

"They won't be. Boys, would you come back to the farm? Your mother wants to come here this Wednesday. You’ll go back with her on Sunday. I think you all will benefit from a few more days on the farm. Besides, you still owe Flossie an apology."

John and Peter looked at the adults waiting for their answer. Both boys were floored that they were being consulted and not told what to do. Peter spoke up first. "Steve, if I do all my chores, could I be allowed to draw?"

"I don’t see why not. I think we have some art supplies," Steve answered with a hopeful grin on his face.

"There’s an art supply store in town, I can pick up a few things," Justin offered.

"Thank you Justin, that’s very generous of you," Steve countered then looked at Peter also expecting a ‘thank you.’ 

Peter blushed but said, "Thank you."

All eyes were on John who sat quietly nibbling on a fingernail. "I guess if Mom is coming up here, we should stay. I don’t want her to get mad at us," John said and frowned. It seemed his mother was always angry at them.

"John, I meant what I said. I’ll take you home tomorrow if it’s what you want," Brian reassured the boys in all sincerity. 

"We’ll stay," John mumbled, still feeling guilty for all the trouble they caused on the previous day.

"Well, since that’s settled, let’s eat lunch and then the boys will go back to the farm," Claire stated. 

Justin added, "Brian, after lunch, would you come with me to town?"

Brian rolled his eyes, "I guess my credit card is getting another work out." Then he smirked with tongue in cheek. Justin elbowed Brian in the gut as Brian grabbed his boy and started to tickle him. Before an all out tickle war could commence, lunch was called.

"Come on, old man, let’s eat. I’m hungry." Justin pulled Brian off the sofa.

"You’re always hungry," Brian reiterated and followed Justin to the kitchen to help Claire set the table.

The nephews stood slightly in awe of what they had just witnessed. Brian wasn’t angry at the way he was being teased by Justin and he willingly helped Claire without being asked. And if the boys had wanted, they knew Brian would have driven them back to Pittsburgh. Neither of the boys had ever seen Brian this way.

Brian looked up at the overwhelmed boys. Misunderstanding and thinking they weren’t feeling well, Brian slowly approached and was prepared to help. "You guys okay? Do you need a nap or something? We can call the doctor."

John shook his head and sat at the table. Peter looked at Brian and said, "No, thank you. We’re okay, just um, a little hungry." Peter wasn’t able to say that he was beginning to like his Uncle Brian.

"Then let’s eat and get going. There are some cows that need attention," Steve proclaimed. 

Both boys paused from their lunch to answer, "Yes, sir." Then everyone continued with their meal. Steve gave Brian a little wink.


	9. The Farm

The first time Peter and Flossie came face to face since the teat tugging was an interesting spectacle. Peter entered the barn reluctantly and warily. He gradually edged closer to Flossie who must have suspected that something was about to happen. She shifted from foot to foot and mooed mournfully. Her eyes opened very wide and had a frenzied look to them.

"Approach her from the side," Steve said gently.

"She's going to kill me," Peter whispered.

"I won't let that happen," Steve promised.

"She hates me."

"She doesn't hate you. She's afraid because you hurt her."

"I hurt her?" Peter asked with a frown.

"Yes. You yanked her teat very hard and that had to hurt."

"I didn't think it would hurt."

"If I grabbed your nipple and yanked down on it, how would you feel?"

Peter cringed visibly. "But you wouldn't do that, would you?" The boy looked ashen.

"Has somebody hurt you like that?" Steve asked.

"No, not exactly, but my mother always threatens to skin me alive or rip my balls off."

"But she doesn't hurt you?"

Peter stared at Steve. "Not like that," he said slowly.

"But she hurts you other ways?"

"She calls me stupid and says I should never have been born. She threatens to make my father take me away, but we don't even know where he is anymore."

"So you hurt her back by being disobedient and defiant and saying horrible things to her."

"I guess so," Peter said looking at the straw on the floor of the barn.

"And that makes it easy to hurt your brother and your uncle and Flossie."

"I didn't mean to hurt Flossie. She just wouldn't give any milk. I was trying to make her."

"Have you ever heard the expression that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar?" Steve asked.

Peter shook his head. "What does it mean?"

"Let's say that Flossie is ready to be milked like she is now." Peter looked at the full udder wondering if he would ever be able to get Flossie to give her milk. "If you grab her teat and yank and it hurts her, is she likely to give milk willingly?" Peter thought about that for a moment. He shook his head. "When your mother yells at you and calls you stupid, does that make you want to do whatever she is asking?" Again Peter shook his head. "What do you think might convince Flossie to cooperate?"

Peter studied the cow. "If I patted her and told her she was a good cow, she might like that."

"Try it."

Peter slid his hand along Flossie's side. The cow turned her head at the gentle touch and some of the wildness went out of her eyes as Peter continued to rub her side and back.

"See, she likes that just fine," Steve encouraged him.

Peter smiled slightly and rubbed Flossie's nose. The cow raised her head against his hand encouraging him to continue and scratch harder. "She likes that," Peter grinned.

"She likes you," Steve said. "Grab the stool and sit down. Let's see just how cooperative she's prepared to be."

Peter took one teat in his hand and squeezed gently. A ribbon of milk covered his shoe. He giggled at the triumph of finally getting some milk.

"Here's the pail. Don't waste Flossie's bountiful harvest."

Peter looked up at Steve and smiled. Half the time he didn't know what the man was talking about, but he liked the soft, calm way Steve talked. Everything seemed to work out when Steve was around. Peter squeezed the teat gently and was rewarded with more milk that cascaded into the pail. "I can do it," he said triumphantly and Steve smiled. Number one in Steve's bag of life lessons was the value of kindness. Maybe he had just got that across to his young charge.

 

John and Peter had a peaceful few days. Following their narrow escape from the silo they were much more subdued and cooperative. They did their chores and didn't argue all the time. Occasionally they would revert to their old ways, but a meaningful look from Steve would bring them back into line. They knew they would be leaving the farm before too much longer, and they knew their mother was coming to see them. That caused some trepidation all round. Nobody knew how that was going to unfold.

Big John picked up Claire at her home in Pittsburgh on Wednesday afternoon. He had met with his client earlier and was heading back to the farm. Claire had never met John and didn't know what to expect. When he rang her doorbell, Claire was surprised to say the least.

"I'm John Anderson," the tall man said carefully. 

"You're my half-brother," Claire said. Brian had told her about Jack's girlfriend before he came to Pittsburgh. John nodded. "You look a lot like Brian."

"So I'm told. Don't see it myself," John joked. He knew he and Brian could and had been easily taken for brothers, if not twins. "Are you ready to go?"

Claire pulled her overnight case out onto the porch and John took it to place in the back of the Navigator. Claire climbed into the passenger seat and they were off. 

By the time they had left Pittsburgh behind the silence inside the vehicle was becoming oppressive. John wasn't sure what to say to the mother of the two holy terrors he had been dealing with for the last couple of weeks. He knew Brian and Claire had a strained relationship at best. How did he talk to this woman?

Claire solved that problem for him. She took a deep breath and asked the question that Brian had skirted with her. "What is your mother like?"

John thought about that for a minute. "You always start with the tough questions first?" he asked with a grin. Claire gave him a pinched smile. "Didn't Brian tell you?"

"Brian tells me no more than he absolutely has to. He'd rather never have to talk to me. I'm surprised he told me who you are."

"You must have a lot of questions then."

"I do. Are you going to answer the one I just asked?"

John smiled to himself. He remembered the first time he had met Brian. He understood how his brother liked to keep things to himself, and yet was so bold at other times. He could imagine Brian blowing Claire's socks off by saying they had a brother and then refusing to tell her anymore about where this brother had come from. That would be just like his little bro'.

"My mother's name is Claire too," John said simply.

"What? Claire? Like mine?"

John nodded. "Your father really loved my mother at one time. I don't know what happened exactly, but neither of them was really happy after that."

"Is your mother bitter and sad?"

"No, why do you ask that?" John frowned.

"You said she wasn't really happy."

"I just meant that she never found anyone to replace Jack. She's always been alone, only the two of us, and Jack's parents for quite a few years."

"And she wasn't bitter?" Claire repeated.

"No, I can't say she was. She's a great mother and a lovely lady."

Claire half snorted before she could stop herself. "I guess all the bitterness and resentment came to Pittsburgh with my father."

John looked over at her but didn't say anything. He thought about bitterness and resentment and how Claire had transferred those feelings to her own boys. They were all fucked up.

Claire rode the rest of the way in silence except for a few non-important, non-committal comments. She was thinking about this other Claire that she was about to meet. She was sure she would hate the perfect mother and lovely lady that John had described. She would be everything that Claire had never had in a mother. She would be everything that Claire had intended to be in a mother and had never achieved. Yes, she would definitely hate this new Claire. 

John pulled the SUV up to his spot by the house. He watched Claire look around suspiciously and then take a deep breath as she opened the door of the vehicle and stepped out.

"Is this where my sons are staying?" she asked looking at the house. She thought it was a little grand for a camp. "Where are they?"

"This is my home, not the camp. Mother and I thought you would be more comfortable staying with us than at the farm where your boys are."

"Oh," Claire said feeling funny. She wasn't sure when the last time anyone had actually taken her feelings into consideration was.

"John," the older Claire called from the screen porch, "did you bring your precious cargo?" Claire came out the door of the porch wiping her hands on a towel. 

"I brought Claire with me," John replied.

Brian's sister assessed the older woman as she walked towards her. She wasn't at all what she expected. Somehow she thought the woman would show visible signs of being a floozy, a mother of an illegitimate child, an old hag. She should be drunk like Joan or just plain bitter. But John had said she wasn't bitter, and she seemed glad to see Claire. Claire was baffled and she hated the woman more.

The elder Claire held out her hand and said, "Hi, Claire, I'm Claire too, Claire Anderson."

Young Claire extended her hand without thinking. This woman had her name. Finally she licked her dry lips and said, "Hello. You have my name," she added.

"Actually you have mine," Claire smiled. I've had mine quite a bit longer," she laughed.

"Oh, I guess that's true. Did my father name me after you?"

"I don't know, dear, but that is a possibility."

"I … I don't know what to say."

"Then don't say anything. Come inside and we'll get you settled in your room. Dinner will be ready in about a half hour."

When Claire came down the stairs some time later, she stood just back of the doorway to the kitchen and watched the elder Claire preparing dinner. She didn't think Claire was pretty, but for a woman her age she was … attractive. The younger woman wondered what her father had seen in this female, what had made him attracted to her, why her father would have named his daughter after another woman, why she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her hate level up.

Ms. Anderson, as Claire decided to call her, worked efficiently in the kitchen. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing and was happy doing it. Each task was accomplished effortlessly. Claire thought about her own cooking skills. She hated cooking and only did it when she had to. The boys never seemed to like what she made and that gave her even less incentive to cook. Joan had never taught her anything in the kitchen. Claire had never wanted her to. Everything in her mother's kitchen had been so rigid and unpleasant. Claire always seemed to be in the way. It had been less than a pleasant experience.

"What are you making?" Claire asked stepping into the kitchen.

"My specialty, pot roast."

"It smells good," Claire admitted reluctantly.

"It is good. I usually make it on the weekend because it takes a long time to get the meat really tender."

"I like things that are fast and easy."

The elder Claire raised an eyebrow. "And that don't taste so great."

Claire flinched. How did she know? "Everything I make seems to be tasteless," Claire said for some unknown reason.

"Great taste takes time and care. Actually," the older woman chuckled, "pot roast is one of the easiest things in the world to make."

"It is?"

"You brown the meat and then let it simmer in the pan for hours. You throw in vegetables at the end and everyone thinks you're a genius."

"That's it?"

Claire Anderson smiled. "I add a few secret spices, but I'd be happy to share with you."

"You would? Why?"

"You're family … sort of."

Claire stared at this woman. Like family would make any fucking difference in helping her! "Nobody in my family ever helps me," Claire said with a frown.

"Is that what you think?"

"It's what I know."

"What about Brian bringing the boys here?"

Claire snorted. "I had to practically have a nervous breakdown before he'd help me."

"Did you ever think to ask him before it got to that point?"

"He never helps. He has money which he never shares and a great loft and … he's a fag. Why would he help me?"

"Maybe if you thought more of him, he'd do more for you."

Claire snorted again. "I doubt it."

"Thinking the worst of people often brings out the worst."

"Like you'd know in your perfect house and kitchen with your perfect son."

"You think I've had an easy time of it?" the elder Claire asked in disbelief.

"It's pretty obvious you have."

"Let me set a few things straight, young lady. I was an unwed mother forty years ago. I was a social outcast without two nickels to rub together. I worked hard to support myself and my son. John knows what we had to go through and that made him work hard to be a success … for both of us."

"My kids wouldn't give me the time of day if they didn't have to," Claire said bitterly.

"And do you ever give them 'the time of day' willingly?"

Claire thought about that for a minute. She rarely did anything for the boys willingly. She saw them as a burden on her time and own desires, and certainly as a financial burden, even with the support her worthless ex-husband was forced to pay. But she did love them, she did, as much as she could or as much as they would let her. "Not often," she admitted weakly.

"Claire, this trip is supposed to be a new beginning for you and the boys. They have made progress. Maybe it's time you did too. And … I'd be happy to help with some of my favorite recipes. And in any other way that I can."

"Why are you being so nice to me?"

"Because you are a guest in my home and you're Brian's sister and … you're Jack's daughter."

Claire studied this strange woman who was calm and peaceful and kind. She thought of how Joan would have reacted in a situation like this and shuddered. A little of her hate for Claire slipped away.

John and Steve arrived for dinner. Steve explained how the farm worked and what the boys had been up to. He was truthful about what the boys had done and how they had acted. He described the silo incident and how Brian had saved the boys. Claire started to get angry when she realized no one had informed her of the real danger. Steve calmly explained why and told her about the boys' reaction to his suggestion about calling her. He bluntly told her that the boys feared her and resented the way she treated them.

At one point Claire stormed out of the kitchen onto the screen porch and had a little cry. She wanted to go home where nobody would make her face these truths about herself, but she knew she couldn't do that. After a bit she returned to the kitchen and Steve continued with his slow, easy explanation of how he was handling the boys.

"But I don't know if I can be like that," Claire said with a sigh.

"You and Brian were raised in the same house," the elder Claire said. "He's come to terms with things. I think if he can do it, so can you."

Claire had to smile just a bit. That might be the first time in her adult life that anyone had said she could be as good as Brian. He was always the smart one, the rich one, the successful one. She was the one who had fucked up her life. Strange that this vote of confidence should come from the woman she had come here to hate.

"I'll try," Claire said slowly. "But I'll screw it up."

"No, you won't," John said. "We'll be here to help you."

Claire shook her head at these people. She felt her head swim, and asked to be excused to go lie down. She had a lot to think about before she saw the boys.


	10. The Farm

Thursday morning at the farm. The boys dreaded this day. Not only was it a week since the silo incident but John and Peter knew they would finally face their mother. They weren’t sure what kind of reaction she would have. And they had no idea what to say to her.

The plan was that Steve would bring the younger Claire to his office after breakfast where she would meet with Bill. The boys had found out that besides being a great rider and farm hand, Bill was a social worker, licensed in the state of Pennsylvania and a family therapist. Talk about looks being deceiving. The boys had thought Bill was just a cowboy.

Bill sat with Claire for hours. He allowed her to scream, cry and generally get out her thirty plus years of frustration. Bill had already heard some of Brian’s take on his life growing up with Jack and Joan and now Bill was piecing together Claire’s perception of it. Claire knew about the abuse but only a few years older than Brian, she was helpless to protect him and disappointed that Joan stood by and did nothing. She never understood why her father seemed to like her more than Brian. She wasn’t very pretty nor was she clever like Brian yet he got hit while she just got screamed at. Her own guilt made her resent her brother and most males that came into her life, including her husband and eventually her sons.

This revelation was very painful to Claire. A mother should not resent her own children. Claire felt ashamed and wailed as Bill offered comfort and reassurance. He assured Claire that she wasn’t the first parent who knew nothing of parenting and there were plenty of groups and counselors that could help her and her boys. He told Claire how proud of her he was that she took the time to face her demons and that all was not lost. She promised that she would continue counseling when she got back to Pittsburgh. Claire was tired of the hurt and pain. She wanted a real family not the dysfunctional group of misfits that resided in her house. 

Before Claire could chicken out, Bill was on the phone with his counterpart in the city setting up individual counseling sessions for Claire and family sessions with her and the boys. Knowing how important consistency and regimen is in therapy, Bill had a whole timetable set up for her. Bill told Claire that he wouldn’t be surprised if Brian attended a few sessions. Although he was dealing with his own hurt and resentment, Brian still needed guidance. Brian, too, was tired of the hurt and pain. For his own sake and for the sake of his son, Brian needed to heal.

Claire let what Bill told her sink in then it dawned on her that Bill mentioned Brian’s son. Claire had never seen the boy and didn’t know how Gus came to be. She laughed bitterly thinking that history would repeat itself, Brian had to be an awful father. Bill set Claire straight.

"Did you see that huge maple in Claire’s front yard?"

"I noticed it."  
"Did you see the treehouse in it?"

"Not really, why? What does an old treehouse have to do with anything?"

"That treehouse didn’t exist 2 months ago. Brian and John built it together for Gus."

"Brian built a treehouse?" Claire said incredulously.

"Yes, it took them a week but all of the construction was done by Brian and John and their partners. It was a family project. Call it treehouse construction therapy. Your brothers learned a lot about each other and themselves that week. They’ve become real brothers and friends."

"I don’t think I could do anything like that."

"Perhaps not the same thing, besides one treehouse is more than enough. But there are other projects you could do as a family."

"I’m not sure."

"After the summer is over and our boys go home, we prepare the camp and the unused buildings for winter. We use volunteers and some of our former boys come up and donate their time. Claire always helps out and she needs help cooking. Our cook is usually the first to leave camp. You could come up here and help Claire. I’m sure Brian wouldn’t mind bringing you and the boys."

"I’ll think about it." Claire considered it payment for the time and money the camp spent on her sons. Maybe she’d finally get to know the Brian everyone else knew.

"Bill, you said something about Brian and John having partners."

"You would have to ask them about that." Bill didn’t think it was appropriate to discuss Brian’s and John’s private life without their permission.

"Hmm. Bill, may I see my sons now?" Claire asked hesitantly. She was just as nervous as the boys were.

"Sure, they should be in the barn mucking out the stalls. I’m sure they could use a break. And it’ll be lunchtime soon. You can join us in the cookhouse."

Claire almost choked on her own spit at the thought of her city boys handling horse manure but she managed restraint. If her sons could do the chores she should be able to show the proper respect for them. Claire followed Bill out to the barn.

"John, Peter, would you come out. Your mother is here," Bill called into the barn.

The boys put their shovels aside, wiping their hands on the towels hanging on pegs near the door and came out to greet their mother. They hesitated a moment expecting to be screamed at for last week's infractions. Their jaws fell as they saw Claire kneel in the dusty barnyard with her arms held open. The boys ran to her and accepted the strong hug she had for them. Wrinkling her nose, Claire was about to blurt out that the boys smelled like shit. But she caught the warning eye that Bill was giving her and instead she told the boys how proud she was of them and that they smelled like hard working men. The boys giggled, so did Claire and then they all cried.

Giving them their moment, Bill then moved things along. "Boys, finish up in the barn then wash up. You’ve earned a good lunch and I do believe that Ms. Anderson sent over a batch of her cookies."

The boys looked up at Bill and broke their embrace with their mother. "Yes, sir." The boys said together and ran back into the barn to finish up. Claire’s cookies were a very desirable reward.

"How do you do that? I can’t get them to clean up their room let alone a barn. They weren’t..."

"No, we never use corporal punishment. We guide our boys in making the best decisions and then living with the consequences if they chose not to participate. Your boys have made progress but it would have been better if we had gotten to them earlier. The incident with the silo was a turning point. They may never have changed without that happening and they still need work. You all do. Maybe they can come back next summer."

"Maybe." Claire was astonished at the boy’s warm greeting of her but she remained unconvinced that anything would ever make her boys human.

"Let’s go, it’s time for lunch. The boys will meet us in the cookhouse."

Claire again followed Bill’s lead.

In the cookhouse Claire was amazed by the way her boys and all the boys eagerly did their assignments. There was pleasant conversation as the boys helped to prepare lunch. John got out the bread and cutting board and started to cut precise slices for sandwiches. Peter started pouring out the lemonade but asked for help when he realized the pitcher was too heavy for him. All the boys broke out into giggles when Steve brought out the lettuce. Claire raised an eyebrow not understanding the inside joke. "Just a minor incident with salad last week. Nothing to worry about," Steve reassured Claire.

Halfway through lunch Peter worked up enough nerve to talk to his mother about his drawings. "Mom?"

"Yes, Peter."

"After lunch can I show you some stuff that I drew?" Peter mumbled hoping that his mother or the other boys wouldn’t laugh at him. One of the older boys spoke up to Peter’s astonishment. "He’s very good at it."

Peter smiled and then looked back at his mother waiting for her answer.

"I would be very honored if you’d show me your drawings, Peter."

Peter beamed at his mother.

The rest of the afternoon passed quietly. Steve gave Claire the tour of the farm and answered more of her questions about the farm’s purpose and the elder Claire’s involvement. The younger Claire’s respect for the older woman grew as she learned of her struggle to keep the farm going and how she and John worked hard so that John could complete his education. Claire couldn’t believe that John stayed loyal to his mother and remained here. Brian took the first chance he had to escape their family but then they didn’t have Claire Anderson for a mother. After dinner Steve took Claire back to the main house.

Sitting on the porch, the two Claires took advantage of a cool breeze that wafted past. Sipping iced tea they got to know each other better.

"Bill told me that Brian and John built a treehouse."

"Yes, they did. It's still very light out; would you like me to show you?" The younger Claire nodded.

Claire followed Ms. Anderson over to the base of the maple. She gasped at the intricate and beautifully constructed treehouse.

"My brother helped to build this?"

"Yes he did. My son is an architect. John designed the plans and with his help, he and Brian along with their partners put it together. Let’s go up." 

The ladies made it to the first level. Claire stood at the railing, looking over the balcony.

"It’s beautiful. I can’t believe how safe I feel up here."

"I get the impression your brother feels the same way. Nothing can hurt him up here." 

Claire nodded; she understood. She knew that Brian often used his height and his loft as a fortress against all the pain he suffered in the past. She could see why he would feel safe up here too.

"Come on, you haven’t seen the best part yet." They ascended the steps to the treehouse.

"Oh my god! A fireplace? That had to be Brian’s idea."

The elder Claire laughed as she nodded her head. "Oh yes, we all had a laugh at that one. When your brother makes his mind up about something there isn’t anything or anyone that can change it. Well, maybe Justin can, but it would take work."

"Is it real?"

"Yes, it runs on gel. But Gus doesn’t have access to it unless Brian or Justin is with him."

"And this mural, don’t tell me Brian did that?"

"No, that was Justin. He’s quite the artist. It was his curiosity that brought all of us together and made this possible."

"It’s wonderful. The little boy playing chess with Brian, he looks so much like Brian when he was little. Is that Gus?"

"Yes, it is. John looked a lot like them too when he was little."

"Must be those strong, stubborn Kinney genes." Claire giggled. She never knew that her brother had the patience to be a part of something like this and be a real father. "Ms. Anderson, I never heard the whole story of how you and John were found. Would you tell me? Brian, you know how Brian is. He gives you just enough information that he thinks is necessary then clams up."

"I’d be happy to tell you. It may have a painful beginning but it has the best ending."

The two Claires closed up the treehouse and then took the slide down laughing all the way. The younger Claire couldn’t get over how much energy the elder Claire had; she was the total opposite of Joan.

Several hours, a pitcher of iced tea and plate of cookies later, the younger Claire had the whole story of Justin’s Sunshine Files, the tale of the treehouse and the mystery of the hidden paintings. Even a certain bullfrog was mentioned which brought on a fit of laughter. That’s how John found them, laughing uncontrollably like giddy school girls. 

"And what’s so funny?"

"Just telling Claire about the frog."

"Have a good laugh now. I spoke with Brian earlier. He and Justin are planning to come up tomorrow along with a certain young man. So get it all out of your system now. You know how sensitive he is. And I think on Saturday half of Liberty Avenue will be camping out here." John announced with the air of authority that he used at his job sites.

"Of course, John. And you know I would never do or say anything to hurt Brian."

"I know mother but you know how he gets." John gave his mother a kiss to her forehead and went into the house for his own glass of iced tea.

"What does John mean about how Brian gets?" the younger Claire asked.

"I believe what John is referring to is what they call ‘Queen outs.’ I’ve only been a witness to a couple of them but they are rather spectacular."

"I’m not sure I know what you mean."

"Well, I guess you could call it a hissy fit. Let’s just say there's a lot of shouting, cursing, pacing and stomping off. It usually ends by Justin finding Brian and working some magic that only Justin can do. Then all is right with the world again and life as we know it continues. It’s rather a fascinating sight to witness." Now Claire had her tongue in her cheek as she said it all with a straight face. The younger Claire got it and again the fit of giggles returned.

John came back out and looked at the silly women and shook his head. Just then Beau made an appearance. "Come on, Beau. Bobby will be home soon and he’ll be hungry. Let’s go make him dinner and leave these two out here. I better make a new batch of iced tea. I think there's maybe something wrong with this one."

John and Beau went back into the house leaving the Claires to their silliness.

After the ladies calmed down, the younger Claire’s curiosity got the better of her. "Ms. Anderson, you’ve mentioned Justin, is he Brian’s partner? I met him once when my son..." Claire looked down at her sandals, ashamed of how she and her son behaved toward her brother.

"It’s okay. Brian’s gotten past that. Yes, Justin is Brian’s partner and a very remarkable young man. He’s got his own strong stubborn streak in him."

"He’d have to, to be able to put up with Brian’s shit. Oh, I’m sorry, I guess that wasn’t very kind of me."

"It’s quite all right. You speak the truth. Those two have a very unconventional relationship. And it hasn’t been easy for them. They each had their own battles to fight and win before they could call themselves partners. Those two can have some very loud discussions but have no doubt that they love each other. They’re both in tune with the other’s emotions. Brian is fiercely protective of Justin. I think he’d fight anyone if he thought Justin was in danger. And Justin, he’s the keeper of Brian’s heart; he would do anything for him. They’re so different, and yet they compliment each other. You’ll see."

"And who is Bobby?"

"I’ll let him answer that." Just then Bobby drove up and got out of his car. He was still putting in long hours at the Honey Bear, preparing to go back for his last year at Penn.

"Good evening Claire," Bobby said, addressing his partner’s mother and giving her a kiss to her cheek. 

"Hello Bobby, busy night?"

"Not too busy. It will be next weekend though. The Honey Bear does a Labor Day bash. It gets crazy."

"Bobby, I’d like you to meet Claire. She’s Brian’s sister." 

Claire looked up at the handsome redhead and extended her hand. Bobby took her hand to shake it. Claire left it there for a moment. Even in the dim light of their candles Claire could see how appealing the redhead was.

"Hey, baby." John came out the door to greet his partner. Bobby dropped Claire’s hand as he was engulfed in John’s hug.

Claire couldn’t help but murmur, "Why are all the pretty ones gay?" John ushered his tired, hungry partner into the kitchen for a late supper.

"Ms. Anderson, if you don’t mind I’m going to go to bed. This has been one hell of a day and I think tomorrow may be more of the same. I’m a little tired and Bill is expecting me bright and early for another session."

"Of course, dear. Have a good night. I’ll see to it that you’re up in time for Bill."

"Thank you, for everything. Good night." As she was about to go in the door Claire caught a glimpse of Bobby and John in a lip lock. She turned and said, "Um, they look a little busy, would you say good night to them for me?" The elder Claire now very used to her ‘boys’ being busy nodded her head with a smile and a wink.

Friday morning was very busy for the Anderson family and for the younger Claire. Big John drove Claire to the farm for her session with Bill and then brought the boys' stuff as well as Claire’s to the cottage. It was agreed that if the whole gang was going to come up for the weekend that it would be better for Claire and the boys to stay at the cottage Friday and Saturday night. John was a bit nervous regarding the amount of homosexuals that were about to descend upon the farm. Claire and the boys would be in for a real eye opener.  
The elder Claire went to the cottage to air it out and stock the refrigerator, then gave it a dusting. When satisfied, she returned home. John, Claire and Bobby went in to town to pick up the additional groceries they would need to make it through the weekend. With that many mouths to feed, they each took their own cars and met up at the store. Brian, being Brian had called ahead to the store and arranged to have a good portion of the bill charged to him. If Claire and John could put up with his crazy family, paying the food bill was the least he could do. Even though John knew he could afford the bill, he also knew Brian’s need to pay it. His baby brother was a force to be reckoned with.

After stowing away the groceries, the three spruced up Claire’s already neat home and John brought the air mattress and sleeping bags up into the treehouse. He knew that Gus would insist on them sleeping there.

By five in the evening Justin’s Cherokee was coming up the drive.

"Breathe, Brian, just breathe. Everything is going to be okay."

"Justin, I can’t help it. I don’t care about myself but if those brats say one word or do anything to hurt Gus, I’ll do what that doctor prescribed," Brian said in an almost sub-vocal tone that the sleeping Gus couldn’t hear.

Justin, who rarely saw Brian’s true rage, knew that Brian would do what he threatened if he thought Gus was in danger. "Brian, Gus will be fine. We won't leave him alone with your nephews. And tomorrow there will be a whole slew of people to protect him including Lindsay. Now you know she won't let your nephews get within a hundred yards of him if she feels threatened."

"I guess so. Okay, let’s get this over with." Brian woke up Gus and helped him out of his car seat. Justin took out the cakes and pies Debbie and Emmett baked in anticipation of the Saturday party.

Brian carried the still groggy Gus into the house. John, hearing the car pull up had come running out to help Justin.

"Hey, big bro."

"Hey, little bro. Hi Gus."

"Hi Uncle John." Gus said to his uncle while peering over his father’s shoulder.

"How was the ride up?"

"Quiet, we left before the traffic got heavy." Justin answered giving Claire a hug and a kiss.

Looking around like a nervous cat in a room filled with rocking chairs, Brian asked the question. "Where are they?"

"They’re not here. Not yet," Claire answered in a quiet reassuring tone. "Steve will bring them here shortly and they’ll stay at the cottage until you leave on Sunday. They need the time to learn how to be a real family and quite frankly I’m not sure if they're ready to handle you and your extended family. Especially Emmett. I adore the sweet boy but he does take some getting used to."

They all laughed at the thought of the homophobic spawn meeting the way out and proud Emmett.

"Let’s get dinner started," Claire announced and everyone pitched in to help including Gus.

At 6:30 Steve pulled up and Claire and the boys piled out. Steve decided to accept Claire’s invitation for dinner so that he could supervise this first meeting. Steve believed that the boys would behave but he wasn’t so sure about Claire and her reaction to Brian. Brian had grown up a lot during the summer, Claire was just starting.

Claire Anderson, et al, were putting the finishing touches to the dinner as Steve and the younger Claire and boys came in. Big John smiled at the boys and received a warm greeting in return. Brian made sure that Gus was protected in Justin’s arms before he and little John squared off, staring nervously at each other for a moment like gunfighters of the old west.

Brian loomed over his nephew. "You still a brat?"

"Yeah," Little John said defiantly looking up at his uncle but with a soft smile. "You still a fag?"

Claire gasped and was about to berate her son. Brian stopped her with a look.

"Yeah. And since we’re clear on that, let’s eat." Brian smirked then reclaimed his son from Justin and sauntered in to the dining room. Everyone let out the breath they were holding and followed Brian and his son.

After everyone at the table had been served Brian took the opportunity to introduce Gus to his Aunt Claire and his cousins. Claire saw the resemblance that Gus had to Brian when he was a child. But instead of the frown that Brian had grown up with, Gus had the sunny expression of a happy child. He politely said hello and candidly engaged in conversation that was put to him. Claire couldn’t believe that this child was Brian’s son. She expected a miniature version of Brian that included the snarky comments and foul mouth. What she saw was a sweet child who was enjoying his childhood. Claire also marveled at the relationship between Brian and Justin. She couldn’t get over that Brian could be so giving, so obviously loving. This was not the Brian Claire had grown up with. She was beginning to see the Brian that the elder Claire had told her about.

Peter had commandeered Justin and they were lost in conversation about the up and coming art show. Justin told Peter that he would ask Claire if the boys could go. It was Peter who noticed the additional party at the table. A certain redhead who remained quietly eating dinner at Big John’s side.

"Um, Uncle John, who’s that?"

"Peter, how rude of me. I’m sorry, Bobby, I should have introduced you. Peter, John, this is my partner, Bobby."

"Partner? As in business partner?" John ventured hopefully.

"No, John. Bobby is my life partner."

"That means you’re a f..."

"I’m gay."

"But you don’t look gay, you don’t act gay! How can you be a fag?"

"John, apologize to your uncle, now!" Claire screamed.

"No, Claire. He can ask me anything. John, what does gay look like and how am I supposed to act."

"You, you ride a horse like a cowboy and you don’t wear pink."

"John, I grew up on a farm. I’ve been riding horses since I was Gus’ age and as for pink, I don’t own anything pink and I doubt that Brian does either."

Justin leaned over to Brian and whispered, "What about that tie?" 

"Shut up and it’s cerise." 

"Oh."

"But you didn’t say anything," Little John continued.

"John, since when does my sexual orientation concern anyone else but myself, Bobby and possibly my mother. It’s no one's business."

"But..."

Gus sensed that the good mood they all were experiencing had significantly changed and he saw his new cousin, John, grow red in the face.

"Daddy, why is John getting red and why is he yelling at Uncle John?"

"Gus, your cousin doesn’t understand about Uncle John and Bobby or me and Justin."

"Oh, well that’s just silly, Daddy. I understand good. I can explain it to him."

Brian gestured to his son to go ahead and try to explain. He could do no worse than anyone else.

"John, it’s very simple. Uncle John loves Bobby and Bobby loves Uncle John. Just like Daddy loves Justin and Justin loves Daddy. And my Mommy still loves Mama even though they don’t live together anymore." After his very eloquent explanation, Gus picked up a carrot stick and began to munch.

Big John, Brian and their partners looked at Gus then at each other and shrugged. Then they also picked up carrots and began to crunch on them. Steve looked around the table, shaking his head. "Out of the mouths of babes," he observed.

The elder Claire stifled a laugh and continued to eat her dinner. The spawn feeling out- numbered and out-done by their baby cousin had no choice; they picked up their own carrots and ate. Only the younger Claire sat with her mouth gaping wide. 

"Claire, dear, I think you better eat before your dinner gets cold, don’t you?"

"Uh, yes ma’am." Claire snapped out of her stupor to pick up her fork.

Dinner continued with little further ado.

When dinner was completed, Claire brought out one of Debbie’s apple pies and the vanilla ice cream. No one had any objections and slices of pie with a good helping of ice cream went to everyone. Shortly after dessert was done Steve went back to the farm. They had their own end of season party to prepare for but he promised that he and Bill would see Claire and the boys off on Sunday.

Justin finally got to ask Claire if she would allow the boys to go to the art show featuring Kinney’s work. She was surprised that both Peter and John were interested but she made no objections. Justin showed Peter the paintings that were hanging in Claire’s hall. 

"Hey, Sonny Boy, you want to play a game of chess before bedtime?" Brian asked Gus. 

"Sure, Daddy," Gus responded as he got the little travel set they always had with them and plopped down on the living room floor opposite his father. John edged his way closer and sat near Gus. Gus turned to his cousin, "Do you want to help me play? Daddy is really good."

"Sure," John answered.

Throughout their game, Brian kept a straight face as the boys consulted with each other regarding their next move. Brian still won but the three had a great time.

Big John and Bobby were outside having a heated discussion. Or rather it was Bobby who was trying to discuss something with John and it was John getting overheated. 

"Bobby, do you have to live there for the whole week?"

"Yes, I do. It’s too long of a drive to be going back and forth. I’ll come home on the weekends and this is my last year."

"Bobby, I’m going to miss you. I’ve gotten used to sleeping with you. I don’t think I can sleep without you next to me."

Brian heard the anguish in his brother’s voice and knew exactly how he felt. He felt the same way when Justin had left him for the fiddler and when he went to LA. Brian never felt more alone than when Justin wasn't there. Brian reached over to Justin who was quietly sketching a portrait of the spawn and lightly touched his arm. Justin put down his pad and moved closer to Brian. Silently, Justin reassured Brian with a gentle caress to Brian’s brow, easing the creases that were forming. Neither spoke but their gestures spoke volumes. Brian pulled Justin onto his lap. He loudly sighed then rested his chin on Justin's shoulder. Gus came over and climbed up into Justin’s lap and yawned. Justin smiled and Brian nodded, it was time to get Gus settled down for the night.

Brian’s sister witnessed the exchange between her brother and this man-child, Brian called his partner. She found it incredible that Justin wielded so much gentle power over Brian. And that Brian had the patience to deal with the young man and the even younger Gus. Brian and Justin got up to take Gus to bed.

Meanwhile, Bobby was able to calm John and they were sitting next to each other on the porch swing. "John, after we settle Gus, do you want me to go with you to bring Claire and the boys to the cottage?"

"No, thank you, Brian. I’ll only be a few minutes."

"Okay. Gus, say goodnight to everyone." 

"Goodnight," whispered the sleepy Gus.

Brian and Justin took the tired boy to the treehouse. John drove Claire and the boys to the cottage.

Up in the treehouse, the boys prepared for bed. Even though the days were still hot, the nights began to get cool. They were grateful for the warmth of the thick sleeping bags. Brian, happy with the two most important people in the world next to him, fell peacefully asleep.

John dropped off Claire and the boys at the cottage. He showed them around and informed them that breakfast would be around eight if they chose to join them at the main house. Claire would call if they wanted John to come and get them. If not they could come by at anytime. The Liberty Avenue contingent threatened to make their appearance at about one. John bid his sister and his nephews a goodnight.

When John got back to the house, Bobby had already finished helping Claire with the remains of the dishes and had gone to bed. Claire, relishing in the quiet, took advantage of it to work on her knitting. John kissed his mother goodnight. Before he went to the room he shared with Bobby, Claire spoke up.

"John, I am so proud of you. You handled little John’s inquisition well." John smiled, proud of his mother too. And of Gus and Brian. This evening could have turned out to be a disaster. But thanks to Gus and Brian’s wicked sense of humor, the evening turned out well.

"Goodnight, Mother."

"Goodnight, Jackie."

In their room Bobby was waiting for his partner. He knew that this school year and their separation was going to be rough but it couldn’t be helped. Bobby was so close to completing his degree and he already had offers from law firms around Pennsylvania. He knew that John would be supportive, after he got over this little bump.

As soon as he got into the room John lost all his clothes and tackled his partner. Their coupling was passionate and frenzied. Afterwards, the lovers snuggled together.

"Baby, did I hurt you?"

"No, John, you never hurt me."

"I thought I might have been too rough. I know it’s stupid but I’m missing you already. It’s like I just found you and now you’re leaving me."

"Shh. I’m not leaving you and unless I have a big test to cram for, I’ll be back here every weekend. I’ll be crabby and annoying and ignore you while I work on a paper or something. You’ll be happy to see the back of me every Sunday night when I go back to campus."

"I’m happy to see the back of you now." John said as he caressed Bobby’s pert bottom, his fingers gently slipping into Bobby’s well fucked hole.

"Mmm." Bobby murmured into John’s neck as he leaned into the touch. "And you know I love your backside too. Roll over, baby, I want to make love to you."

John rolled on to his belly and let his lover work his own magic.


	11. The Farm

Claire and the boys decided to have breakfast at the cottage. Claire felt they should have some time alone. She wanted to see how the boys would be with her when Steve or Bill weren't around to make them behave. She dreaded that they would return to the way they had been, but she had to find out before they left the farm.

Breakfast began well enough with Claire cooking bacon and eggs. It was one of the few things she could easily prepare and that tasted good when she was finished. She wanted to sit down to a meal with her boys and see if they could have a civilized conversation. At home the boys would grab whatever food was going and either take it to their room or eat in front of the television. They rarely sat down to a meal as a family. That was one of the things Claire wanted to change. She remembered seeing an old "Oprah" show about what a difference it made to family dynamics when the family sat down, ate a meal together and actually talked without any interruptions. She had thought that was nuts at the time, but maybe it wasn't such a foolish idea after all.

John finished up making toast and Claire dished up the bacon and eggs. They were actually working as a team. Claire allowed herself a little smile of satisfaction. 

"Peter, would you get the pitcher of orange juice out of the fridge?" Claire said sweetly.

Peter went to the fridge and lifted out the heavy pitcher full of the frozen orange juice that Claire had made up earlier. He struggled to carry it to the table and suddenly with a loud crash the pitcher was in several pieces all over the floor. Orange juice splattered all over Claire's slippered feet.

"Shit!" she reacted. "How could you…?" She was about to ask how Peter could be such a fucking stupid asshole. One look at the boy's crestfallen face and eyes full of tears and she bit off her words. She would not ruin this for them all. "Well," she said softening her voice. "I guess we won't be having orange juice for breakfast. I'll stick our plates in the oven to keep them warm while we clean up this mess. Stay still boys until I can pick up the glass."

"I'm so clumsy," Peter said shaking his head. "I ruined everything."

"No you didn't," Claire said picking up the large pieces of glass. "Pitchers and orange juice can be replaced. I shouldn't have asked you to carry such a heavy thing. Next time maybe John will do it or I will. There," she said finding all the glass she could. "John, there's cloths under the sink and Peter, get the mop from the porch."

Both boys willingly helped mop up the juice. Claire wrung out the mop and rags in the sink and soon the kitchen was back to normal. She pulled their plates from the oven and gave them each a glass of water. They all sat down to eat.

They munched in silence until Claire said, "So how bad was it at the farm?"

"Bad at first," John admitted. "But it's really an okay place once you get used to it."

"They have cows and horses and goats and a donkey," Peter offered.

"And we learned to swim … a little bit," John said proudly.

"Sounds like you had a good time after all," Claire conceded. She felt slightly jealous that the boys liked it here so well. She had thought they would be happy to go home with her. "Are you ready to go home?" she had to ask.

The boys looked at each other and then nodded their heads vigorously. Claire let out a breath of relief and smiled at her boys. Sometimes they were good kids.

"Mom," John began, "are you trying to change too?"

"What … what do you mean?"

"We're eating together. We never do that."

"And you didn't yell at me when I dropped the pitcher," Peter added.

"I had a long talk with Steve and Bill. They're very smart men," Claire admitted. The boys nodded in agreement. "I'm going to try to improve things for us all. Do you think you can help me?" One of the things Bill had told her was the importance of having each of them own their part in what was happening.

"I'll try," John said. "I hated all that yelling and fighting."

"Me too," Peter added.

"Me three," Claire said with a chuckle. "Maybe we can make this work. I … I like working with you boys in the kitchen. We should try to have at least one meal a day together. We could sit down like this and talk about what's bothering us or what good things happened during the day. Would you like that?"

"I would," John said. Peter nodded his head.

"Then we'll try."

They finished eating their bacon and eggs. Peter went to the fridge and found a jar of jam for their toast. Claire didn't have to tell him to do it, and he didn't drop it on the way back. She even thanked him for getting it when they slathered it on their toast.

"You know that a bunch of Uncle Brian's friends are coming up this afternoon, don't you?" Claire asked hoping to avoid bad feelings later on.

"A bunch of fags," John said.

"Just like Uncle Brian?" Peter asked.

"And like Uncle John," John added. He wasn't exactly sure how he felt about that.

"Some of them may be like your uncles but they're all different. All people are different. We need to take them at face value and not make judgments based on prejudice." Claire's eyes opened wide. She couldn't believe she had just spouted those words. The boys looked at her and they all burst out laughing.

After a minute John's face got serious and he asked, "Are we laughing at Uncle John? Because I like him, and he taught us to swim."

"And Justin's helping me to draw," Peter said his mouth full of toast and jam.

Claire studied her boys. "I wasn't laughing at anyone. I was laughing at what I said, because I could hardly believe it was me saying those things. I know I've said awful things about Uncle Brian in the past, and about fags in general. Maybe it's time I rethought those ideas. Uncle Brian arranged for you to come here. He's really trying to help us."

"He's teaching me some of his chess techniques," John said.

"Can you boys try to be nice when we meet his friends?"

"I'll be nice," John said. Peter nodded in agreement.

"Maybe you can play with Gus a little bit," Claire suggested.

"He's a smart kid," Peter said. "Did you hear him explain about Uncle Brian and Justin and about Uncle John and Bobby?"

"He seems to think that love makes everything okay," John said.

"And maybe he's right," Claire said touching John's hand in the first affectionate gesture she had made spontaneously in a long time.

John smiled at her and her heart soared with hope for their future.

When breakfast was finished, Claire and the boys washed the dishes then remopped the floor so that all the sticky juice was gone. Claire Anderson had two homes to care for and they were each pristine. Claire had only one small house and she could barely keep up with it. It was only right that she make sure she left the cottage the same way she found it.

It was close to eleven when everything was done to her satisfaction. Claire sat at the table staring at the phone pondering her next move.

"Mom, what’s wrong?" John asked truly concerned.

"I know it’s silly but I’m afraid to call the main house."

"Afraid of what?" Peter asked.

"Well, for one thing I have to tell Ms. Anderson about the pitcher."

"But Mommy, I broke that."

"Peter, I’m responsible for you and I should have known better."

"Because I’m so stupid and clumsy, right."

"No, because I made the orange juice and I knew how heavy that pitcher was. It was heavy even before I filled it. I should have never asked you to pick it up. And to be really honest I’m afraid of being yelled at too."

"But Mommy, you’re a, a mommy! Who would yell at you?"

"Peter, Grandma Joan wasn’t always nice to me and Brian when we were growing up. She yelled at us a lot. Even now she yells at us."

"Mom, Ms. Anderson seems like a really nice lady. I don’t think she would yell at you."

"You’re right, John. I don’t think she would either. Well, here goes everything."

Claire dialed the main house and the elder Claire picked up. Claire explained about the accident and that no one was hurt. She apologized and offered to replace the pitcher.

"Don’t worry about the pitcher. It wasn’t an heirloom, just something I picked up at the discount store. Besides, pitchers can be replaced, not so little boys. Now have you decided to brave the rest of Brian’s family? They should be here at about one. John can come by and pick you all up or if you take the lane in front of the cottage you can be here within 10 minutes. Alright then, I hope to see you soon. Bye."

Claire hung up the phone, turned and faced her sons.

"Huh. I feel like I’m living in the Twilight Zone. People can’t be that nice."

"What did she say?" both boys asked.

"She said she was glad that no one got hurt and not to worry about the pitcher. Then she wanted to know if we were coming to the party. Do we want to go? We know some of them. I remember Lindsay from Grandpa’s funeral and Michael and his mother."

"Is she the drag queen?" John asked, remembering Debbie from the diner and when he got caught lying about his uncle.

"Yeah, she always looked a little strange to me. I never understood why Brian loved her more than anyone else. I guess maybe she’s nice like Ms. Anderson. I don’t know who else is going to be there. We could stay here."

"But that would be hiding and I’d really like to go. Maybe Uncle Brian would let us stay in the treehouse. Do you think if we’re really nice to him and his friends he’d let us stay up there tonight?"

"I don’t know, Peter. We’ve been so awful to each other, I just don’t know."

"Mom, if we stay here, we’ll never know. And I want to see if Uncle John will take us to the stream again. It was fun. I really do like Uncle John," John said to his mother and Peter.

Claire looked at her boys and made the decision. "So, I guess we’re all in agreement. We’ll go now and see if we can help Ms. Anderson and everyone get ready for the party. We’ll stay but before any of us says something not nice to any of Brian’s friends, we’re going to stop and think first. If we have to we’ll excuse ourselves and come back here. Deal?"

"Deal!" Claire’s boys answered back. They all smiled at one another; this was the first real family decision they had ever made together and it felt good. They packed up extra clothes then headed down the lane to the main house.

******************************************************************

When Claire Anderson had hung up the phone, Brian was there to witness her end of the conversation.

"So I take it there was no loss of life at the cottage," Brian snarked.

"Apparently not, just the loss of a pitcher."

"Peter?" Brian smirked. Claire nodded. "At least the child wasn’t hurt."

"That’s good. So are they coming over or are they going to hide at the cottage all day?"

"I don’t think the decision has been made yet."

"Maybe they should stay there." Brian snorted out but then regretted his comment.

"Brian, that wasn’t very kind," Claire admonished.

"I know and I’m sorry. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, that’s all. Claire and I have been angry at each other for most of our lives and I don’t even know why. I guess I don’t know how to be nice."

"Brian, that’s not true. You do know how to be nice. Just try to think first before you open your mouth. You’ll be okay. Besides, with all the people coming here today, I doubt if you’ll be alone with your sister and your nephews."

Brian started to laugh. He was thinking about how many queers were going to be here.

"What’s so funny, Daddy?"

"Just thinking about what’s going to happen when Aunt Claire meets Auntie Em, Sonny Boy."

"Oh." Gus liked his Auntie Em; he always thought he wore the most colorful clothes. 

"Can Justin and I go to the stream?" 

"Sure, just stay with Justin."

"I will." Gus gave his Daddy a kiss then ran out of the house to Justin who was waiting just outside the porch. "Come on, Buddy, let’s see if we can find another frog." Brian scowled as he overheard Justin and Gus giggling.

Brian, with his hands on his hips, looked skyward and sighed. "Will the gods ever save me from little boys and their obsession with frogs?" Claire stifled another laugh.

Claire and her boys got to the house around 11:30 and the whole family was busy preparing for the gathering. John and Bobby were setting out the long tables. John had decided after the July 4th party that getting the tables would be a good investment. Brian was preparing the grill. Claire was seasoning the meat and preparing the vegetables. The younger Claire could not hide her amazement; the elder Claire had everything so well organized.

"Hi there, I’m so glad you decided to join us. And I could use some help with the salad and we’ll need more iced tea and lemonade." The elder Claire gave the younger a greeting hug. The younger Claire stiffened for a moment then gingerly returned the hug. Brian watched and observed his sister’s expression.

"Claire, get used to that. Later on there’ll be a massive hugfest," Brian remarked then turned his attention to the spawn who were still just inside the door. "And why are you two lurking over there? Come in and say good morning to Ms. Anderson."

The boys came in and said good morning.

"Good morning boys. John and Bobby could use some help with the folding chairs. If you do a good job I’m sure John will take you to the stream for a swim before the gang gets here." Claire saw the boys’ faces light up and they raced to help their Uncle John with the chairs.

"I still don’t know how you all do that. I’ve never been able to get them to help me with anything. Until this morning, that is."

"Claire, honey, you’re off to a good start. This will work out, I know it will." Brian’s sister was almost convinced and very hopeful.

"Brian, who’s coming?" Claire asked her brother almost fearing the answer.

"Pull up a chair." Brian replied as he plopped his skinny butt in a chair and started to peel the cucumbers Claire slid in front of him. "It’s a long list." The younger Claire sat opposite her brother and started peeling the carrots that appeared in front of her. "First, there’s Debbie. You remember her, short woman, red wig, loud mouth and her fiancé, Carl. He’s the cop so your brats better behave." Brian ignored the look that the two Claires gave him. He shrugged but before he could continue, his sister jumped in.

"You mean Debbie’s going to get married?" Claire asked, astonished at the thought.

"Who knows? She won't do it until Mikey’s marriage is officially recognized here."

"I don’t understand. Michael, isn’t he gay; he got married?"

"Michael and his partner got married in Canada last year. You’ll like Ben; he’s a lot like John. Very smart, he’s a college professor and built like a brick shithouse. That man has some set of muscles." Brian’s mind wandered off briefly at a memory then quickly returned. "They also have a son, Hunter; he’s almost 17. He’s a little street urchin that they saved and then adopted. Let’s see, who else? There’s Ted and Emmett. Theodore is my accountant. He’s very good at it but don’t tell him I said that. There are enough swelled heads at my agency already. Then there’s Emmett or Auntie Em as Gus calls him. He’s just your typical out and proud queen. But don’t let his fruity exterior fool you. He grew up down south and he’s as tough as nails. Jennifer and Molly are coming too. Jennifer is Justin’s mother; smart, pretty and very protective of Justin and his sister. That’s Molly, cute kid. Oh and Lindsay, you remember her. Tall blond, she’s Gus’ mom and my best friend, besides Mikey. That’s the lot of them. My crazy family."  
Brian let things settle into his sister’s brain for a while and the three sat quietly peeling, chopping and slicing.

"Brian, can I ask you something about Gus and Lindsay?"

"Yeah."

"You and Lindsay, did you, I mean, how did, shit. I don’t know how to ask."

"Let me do it for you. Lindsay and I met in college and we were very close. We even tried the het life for a while but we knew it wouldn’t work. We stayed close friends; we love each other. When she and her partner wanted to start a family I made a donation. Nine months later, Gus. That explain it for you?"

"Yes, it does. And Mom doesn’t know."

"Not that I know of, unless Jack told her. He found out shortly before he died."

Claire felt the tears well up in her eyes. Her father was a cruel man but he was the only father she had and he was nice to her sometimes. As bad as Jack was he still was her daddy. She couldn’t help the tears that started to fall.

Brian was shocked for a moment. All those tears that Claire had shed during the funeral didn’t seem real to Brian, just a show put on by his sister. These tears were real. Brian felt them too. For the first time in his life Brian felt love toward his sister. He got up and went to Claire pulling her up from her chair. Brother and sister hung on to each other.

"I’m sorry, Brian."

"Sorry is bullshit. I hated him at times but I miss the bastard too."

Brother and sister hung on and cried together.

The elder Claire left the kitchen to allow for their privacy. She stood guard at the outer door and redirected her son, Bobby and the boys when they tried to go in to get their bathing suits.

"Mother, what’s going on?"

"Shh, just a little brother and sister bonding. Go to the stream, Justin and Gus are already there."

"But we don’t have our bathing suits."

"Oh, pooh. You’re all boys; you all have the same equipment. Go. They need a little time alone."

John rolled his eyes at his mother then nodded. He led the boys to the stream.

Claire sat on the swing and waited for the all-clear.


	12. The Farm

When the convoy of vehicles began arriving, Claire hung back not knowing if she would be accepted or vilified by them. God only knew what Brian had told them about her. She watched from the kitchen window as person after person got out of the vehicles and was hugged and greeted by Brian and Claire. Brian hadn't been kidding when he said there was a hugfest coming. Who would have thought that Brian would be in the forefront of it?

Everyone seemed so happy to be there, to be together. Claire wondered how Brian had found these people. She hadn't found anyone even close to this. Her husband had married her because she was pregnant. It probably would have never happened if she hadn't been. And he had resented her forever after. She closed her eyes and breathed wondering what her life might have been if she had made different choices.

Maybe this was the moment for her to find out. She sucked in her gut and went out the door.

"Hi Sweetie," a gushing and tall young man said to her. She vaguely remembered this was Emmett.

"Hello," Claire replied.

"I met you at your father's funeral. I hope this is going to be more fun." Emmett stopped there thinking how awful that must have sounded. "Don't mind me," he added. "I'm just a silly queen."

Claire's frown relaxed and she smiled and then giggled. "Nice to meet you, Emmett," Claire said extending her hand.

"Thanks, Sweetie," Emmett said giving her hand a little shake.

"I don't think anything could be less fun than my father's funeral, so this has to be a step up."

Emmett laughed. "Stick with me, girl, and I'll make sure you have a good time."

Claire looked horrified. "But aren't you gay. I mean … I'm a woman. You don't want to be hanging around me." Claire stopped, knowing how stupid that all must sound.

"Don't mean we can't have a laugh or two together," Emmett replied. "I like women. They're my best friends."

"Well, Emmett, I have to admit that I'm a little nervous about meeting Brian's … family. It's nice of you to welcome me in."

"We're a fucked up lot, but we look out for each other."

"That's good to know," Claire admitted thinking that she could learn to like Emmett a lot. In fact she already did. A loud redhead approached. Claire remembered Debbie Novotny from a few … incidents with Brian. "Mrs. Novotny," Claire said, "how are you?"

"I'm fuckin' lovely," Debbie said smacking her gum. "Call me Debbie. I think we've met once or twice, but not for a long time. How's your mother?"

"Fine. Same as always."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah," Claire agreed with a snort. "She never changes."

"What about you?"

"I … believe I'm in the process of changing," Claire said with just a bit of pride.

"Then let's celebrate," Debbie said pulling Claire into a hug.

"Everyone's down at the stream having a swim," the elder Claire announced. "Why don't you all head on down there and take a dip. The weather's perfect for that. Leave your stuff in the cars until you come back."

Everyone did some rummaging around in their luggage for swimsuits and Claire hung back watching.

"What's the matter, dear," Claire Anderson asked.

"I don't have a suit. I didn't know there'd be swimming."

"I could lend you a swimsuit. I think we're about the same size."

"I … I don't know how to swim," Claire admitted. "I've always been afraid of the water … afraid of so many things." Claire stared off into space.

"The water's not deep. You don't need to know how to swim. Come up to my bedroom and we'll get you outfitted. I'll even go in with you."

"You will?" Claire stared at this amazing woman. Her giving and kindness seemed to know no bounds.

Within minutes everyone had made their way down to the stream to join Justin, John, Bobby, Gus and the spawn. The younger boys were swimming in their underwear not feeling ready to reveal all. John and Bobby swam naked enjoying the cool water. The two Claire's clad in their swimsuits carried mountains of towels for everyone.

"Hey, Bri, join us for a skinny dip," Bobby called.

"I'm much too modest for that," Brian protested.

Justin swam up to his lover and grabbed Brian's leg tipping him over and making him fall fully clad into the stream. A major water fight ensued with everyone taking sides and splashing for all they were worth. Surprisingly Claire and her sons joined Brian's side and put up a valiant fight before the superior numbers of Justin's side made them call for a ceasefire.

Claire climbed dripping from the stream and her namesake handed her a towel. "That was fun," the young Claire laughed. "It's been a long time since Brian and I were on the same side in anything."

"We made a good team out there," Brian said peeling off his sopping shirt and deciding to keep on his equally soggy shorts. "If Justin didn't have so many minions, we would have won."

"The Kinneys were always the underdogs," Claire stated.

"Not anymore," Brian stated. "I think the Kinneys are doing just fine." He smiled at his sister. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Brian's cheek. "What was that for?" Brian asked surprised.

"Thanks for saying that and for letting me be on your side today. And for being on mine this last while."

Brian stared at his sister not sure what to say.

"Daddy," Gus called.

Brian turned and was hit with a barrage of water from all the people who had been on Justin's side in the water fight, including his son.

"Cheap shot, Sunshine," Brian said. "Using my son against me. Time to pay." Brian cannonballed himself into the water swamping Justin with the strategic placement of his landing. Justin coughed and sputtered.

"Daddy!" Gus called. He had water in his mouth and eyes and nose and was struggling in the shallow water.

"I got you, Sonny Boy," Brian said reaching for his son and lifting him safely against his chest while the little boy got rid of the excess water. "Are you okay now?"

"Throw me!" Gus ordered having recovered his breath and good humor. 

Brian heaved his son out into the middle of the stream where the little guy went under only to pop up with a big grin on his face. He swam towards his father yelling, "Again, again!"

"I am going to be so stiff by the time he tires of this," Brian said to Justin.

"I'll help you work out the kinks later," Justin promised with a wink and a sultry look.

"I'll hold you to that," Brian said as he heaved Gus into the middle of the stream once again.

An hour later every one was cooled off and stomachs were starting to grumble. The elder Claire with the rest of the ladies went back to the house to change and start lunch. John and Brian led the rest back and the sleeping arrangements were all confirmed. Everyone separated so that they could dry off, change and help get the lunch on the table. By three the whole family was sitting at the tables.

John had again arranged the tables in a big square so that everyone could be seen and join in conversation. Little John decided to sit near big John and Peter wanted to sit close to Justin hoping to talk more about drawing. The younger Claire was swept away to sit with Debbie and Jennifer. Both had been filled in by Justin about the farm and the counseling that Claire participated in. Jennifer and Debbie both decided to set good examples for Claire on how acceptance and tolerance was preferable to prejudice. Claire learned a lot that afternoon about the pain that certain young men sitting at the table went through growing up gay.

The atmosphere was relaxed, everyone was enjoying themselves and the spawn were behaving. Nary a snarky comment was said by anyone. And when it was, it was all said in good fun.

For most of the afternoon Claire was awestruck by the variety of people that graced the table. Emmett was obviously gay while Teddy looked like a typical accountant. Other than the fact that they were wearing matching wedding bands Claire couldn’t tell that Mikey and Ben were gay. Nor had she know about John until she was told. Claire was equally floored by how Lindsay and Brian were together. In any other setting the two of them and Gus would look like any other family. She couldn’t believe that Lindsey was a lesbian. It took all of Claire’s resolve not to stare at any of them with her mouth hanging open. She realized how much time she had wasted with her prejudices. And the poor example she set for her sons. She had no close friends of her own, but all of Brian’s friends had accepted her with open arms. Claire was determined to learn to set aside any preconceived notions about people in the future.

"Lindsay, has Mr. Bloom set a date for the art show?" Claire Anderson asked.

"Not yet, he’s still working on the Kinney paintings but he’s shooting for early October before the holidays start. He’s already started to advertise for gay artists to submit their work. Justin, will you be submitting any pieces?"

"I’d like to. I did some sketches of the local wildlife while I was staying here. I may submit one of them."

"As long as it isn’t that frog, Sunshine, you can submit whatever the hell you want." Brian quipped and everyone barked out a laugh.

"Justin, when you have the chance...oh, excuse me." Lindsay’s cell phone began to ring and she recognized Sidney Bloom’s private number. "Yes, oh sure, he’s right here, hold on. Justin, it’s Sidney, he’d like to tell you something."

Lindsey handed her phone over to Justin. Brian raised an eyebrow and Lindsay shook her head. She had no idea what it was about. The whole family quieted while Justin listened to what Sidney was saying. 

"Holy fuckin’ shit! You’re shitting me, right? Oh my god! Can I tell everyone, the whole family is here, I mean it’s not a secret is it? Okay, thank you for telling me and yes I would love to see it. Thank you. I’ll be there. Bye."

Justin hit end, then handed the phone back to Lindsay and sat back down, his bottom hitting the metal chair with a smack. He stared off then his eyes began to get watery. Debbie and Jennifer were the first to notice.

"Sunshine, you okay?"

"Justin, honey, what is it?"

Brian turned and swung Justin around in his chair. He cupped Justin’s chin to look into the boy’s eyes.

"Spill."

"That was Mr. Bloom."

"We know that. What did he say to you to start your allergies? Did something happen to the paintings?"

"No, nothing like that. You know how sometimes when they authenticate paintings they x-ray them? Sometimes they find another painting underneath or a different sketch. Good canvas is expensive, so if we make a mistake or change our minds, then we just don’t start on a new canvas, we reuse the old one. Lots of times they’ll keep the x-ray cause the hidden picture is often prettier than the finished piece." Justin paused to take a breath and wipe away a tear.

"Justin, did they find something bad?" Lindsay asked.

"No, just the opposite. One of the paintings, the self portrait of Kinney sitting with Patrick. It started out as a study of Patrick, a nude, but Kinney must have changed his mind. He made some notes and scribbles on the canvas. Most of it couldn’t be read but it did have Patrick’s full name. I know Patrick’s last name."

"Sunshine, don’t keep us all in suspense. What the fuck is Patrick’s name!" Debbie shouted.

"Taylor. Patrick Taylor." Justin and Brian stared into each other’s eyes. For several moments the family, the front yard, the world did not exist. All that existed was the two of them. The implications of the find overwhelmed them and they needed to find a quiet spot to be alone together. The stunned family watched as the elder Claire found a steak bone. She wrapped it in a towel and then suggested that Brian and Justin go bring it to Beau in the barn. Brian nodded, grabbed the bone in one hand and Justin with the other. The lovers walked off to the barn to present the bone to Beau.

"Un-fucking-believable!" Debbie said loudly. 

"That’s so beautiful!" Emmett cried, desperately needing a tissue.

"Even in a past life those two belonged together," Teddy observed.

"I think it’s sweet," Lindsay said.

"Do you think those two will ever come out of the barn?" Hunter huffed out. "Maybe I should go check on them," he added with a sly grin.

"NO!" Michael, Ben and Debbie yelled back at him.

"Don’t worry, they won't be in there for long," Big John said.

"What makes you say that, John?" Ben asked.

"Just observing Justin’s plate."

"His plate? What’s his plate have to do with anything?" Lindsay asked.

"It’s still half full; the boy’s still hungry. They’ll be back soon," John stated in a Brian tongue in cheek way.

The whole family gaped at John then cracked up. With the drama over, the barbecue continued.

A few minutes later Brian and Justin reappeared. It wasn’t the need for sex that sent them to the barn, just the need for privacy while Justin got his allergies under control. And for Brian to provide his silent comfort. Brian was still uncomfortable showing intense emotion in public, he also needed privacy to get control. Everything was back to normal when they joined the family at the tables.

"Well that was quick," remarked Teddy.

"Some of us are very efficient at what we do, Theodore. You should make a note of that," Brian snarled back.

"Yes, sir, boss," Teddy whimpered.

Brian sent out his warning glare to those family members who’d recognize it and everyone began to dig into their lunch with gusto.

Brian’s sister didn’t quite understand the significance of what happened and quietly whispered to Jennifer. "What just happened? Why did Brian and Justin walk off? I know about the paintings but I don’t understand the name Taylor."

Jennifer nodded and whispered back. "Let me formally introduce myself, I’m Jennifer Taylor, Justin Taylor’s mother." Then Jennifer smiled.

All Claire could do was gasp. Now she really knew that she was living in the Twilight Zone.

The sun was beginning to head for the horizon and the heat of the day was cooling off. Michael and Ben unfastened their bikes from the back of the car and prepared to go for a ride. John stood at a distance watching them. Ben gently elbowed Michael and nodded towards the boy.

"Should we ask him if he wants to come?" Ben asked.

"But he doesn't have a bike," Michael replied.

"Maybe Hunter won't want to come with us."

"Hunter," Michael called, "are you going to come for a ride with us?"

"Sure," Hunter replied knowing that would get him out of helping to clean up. He had mastered the normal teenager mentality over the months living with Ben and Michael.

"Now what do we do?" Michael asked.

"John, do you want to go for a ride with us?" Ben asked. John nodded. "I'll stay back and you and Hunter go with him. Hunter's mountain bike should be the right size for John."

"There's a bike in the barn that Hunter could use," Big John suggested. "It's too big for John, but Hunter should be fine on it."

"Is that okay with you, Hunter?" Michael asked as John went to get the bike.

"Sure … whatever." Hunter just wanted out of the chores.

"Do you still have that comic book shop?" John asked Michael as they got ready for the ride.

"Yeah."

"Could … could I come and read some comics sometime?"

Michael smiled. A polite request. "I think that could be arranged." They set off on their ride with a smile from each of them.

"Hey, everybody, I brought Twister," Emmett announced with a laugh.

"Fuck, no!" Brian reacted.

"Not me," Ted said.

"I'm too out of shape," Debbie and Carl said together. "But I love to watch," Debbie added.

"Well, I'm playing," Emmett stated. "Come on, you guys. Someone? Anyone?"

"Me, me," Gus called. "Daddy, come with me."

Brian groaned knowing he was going to be playing Twister in a few minutes whether he wanted to or not. "Sure, Sonny Boy, no problem." He clenched his teeth and stood up. He could hear the snickers behind his back, but chose to ignore them.

"Be good," Justin said giving Brian's hand a squeeze. 

Peter watched in fascination. His Uncle Brian was going to play Twister. "Come on, Peter, you should play too," Brian said.

Peter smiled at the invitation. He got up and moved to the vinyl square that Emmett had laid out on the lawn. He looked up at his uncle who calmly put his hand on the boy's shoulder. Peter thought maybe he could get used to this kind of family.

Bobby decided to join in too. Justin said he would do the spinning. After a few rounds of placing body parts the people on the sheet were getting suitably wound up with each other. Brian did his best to protect Gus from being crushed if the group collapsed.

"Emmett, left hand on green," Justin instructed.

Emmett shot his hand between Brian's legs and grabbed the only available green square. "I love this game," Emmett gushed.

"Especially when your face is up my ass."

"Because my face is up your ass."

They both looked up as chuckles and laughter were heard from all assembled.

"Gus, left foot on red."

"Help, Daddy," Gus said trying to make his foot reach.

Brian picked up his son and plopped him on Emmett's back. Emmett bounced the little boy a couple of times bringing squeals of delight from Gus. Peter watched for a second before Brian and Bobby attacked tickling him mercilessly. Everyone rolled onto the ground laughing and cracking imaginary threats of death and dismemberment. Peter gave one last giggle as Brian finally stopped tickling him.

"That was fun, Uncle Brian," Peter said his face flushed from his exertions to escape.

"Couldn't have done it without Bobby's help, and Emmett and Gus," Brian added.

"Okay, girls' turn," Emmett said.

Reluctantly all the women got up and played a round. Despite their initial protestations that they didn't want to do it, they all had fun, Claire included.

Brian took Gus' hand and walked over to the treehouse. He sat on the end of the slide with Gus on his lap. Peter followed them.

"Uncle Brian," Peter began. "Could John and I sleep up in the treehouse tonight?"

"You like it up there?" Brian asked.

"Yeah, it's fun and … safe."

Brian knew that feeling only too well. "It's Gus' treehouse. You better ask him."

"Gus, could John and I sleep up there with you tonight?"  
Gus studied this person he had barely met.

"Sonny Boy, Peter is your cousin. He'll make sure that you are safe. You'll look after Gus, won't you?" Brian asked pointedly.

Peter nodded his head vigorously.

"Okay daddy," Gus said putting his arms around his father's neck.

"Justin and I will be sleeping in the barn. So will John and Bobby. If you guys need anything, come and get us."

"We will," Peter promised.

Justin walked up. He had finished directing the latest round of Twister getting everyone sufficiently entangled that they collapsed in fits of laughter.

"We've been kicked out of the treehouse, Sunshine," Brian said with a smirk.

"Oh, why?"

"The younger Kinney clan is taking over for the night."

"Where are we going?"

"To the barn."

"The barn? Umm, hmm, fond memories," Justin said with a blush that could barely be seen in the dying light of the day. "If I remember correctly, I have some kinks to work out for you."

"Some very bad kinks," Brian said with tongue in cheek. He set Gus down and pulled Justin into a kiss as Michael and crew rode up the driveway.

"Don't you two ever get enough? Get a room," Michael called.

"Looks like we're getting the barn," Brian grinned.

John watched the affection between his uncle and Justin. He still didn't understand being gay, but he liked the easy way these people behaved around each other. They always were hugging and kissing and being nice. He could definitely get used to that.

Little John, Peter and Gus settled into the treehouse. They each had a flashlight and a battery operated lantern was on the little table. Claire packed up a small cooler with drink boxes of milk and juice and plenty of fruit and other snacks that growing boys could sink their teeth into. It was a little early to sleep so they set up the chess set and checkers.   
Brian settled them in but was reluctant to leave his son with the former spawn. Justin met him on the balcony level.

"Something wrong?" Justin asked softly.

"No, not really, it’s, I, I’m not sure if I trust them with Gus," Brian admitted.

"Brian, Gus is a smart little boy. He’ll come running if there’s any trouble and I think your nephews have really changed. Besides, it’s been a long and fun filled day. They’ll be asleep soon. They can’t get into too much trouble when they’re sleeping." Justin gave his worried partner a hug then led him to the slide. Brian sat down on the edge and waited for Justin to sit on his lap. With Justin comfortably atop of Brian, Brian pushed off and the two sailed to the ground, laughing all the way down.

Lindsay met them as they reached the porch. "Claire and I are going to camp on the porch tonight. Michael, Ben and Hunter are going to the cottage. Claire and I are both a little nervous about the three of them up there without a parent but I want to trust that they’ll be fine. So we’ll take the porch. Your brother has already inflated the air mattress for us and we have sleeping bags. It’ll be like a slumber party."

"Are you sure, Lindz? It would be a tight fit but I could sleep up there with them." Justin offered. 

"No, this means a lot to them and to Claire. We’ll be able to hear them and you guys are very close by. It’ll be okay."

"You’re sure? Claire snores," Brian snarked.

"No worse than Mel," Lindsay countered and the three shared a laugh.

With the latest sleeping arrangements now confirmed, Claire and Lindsay got comfortable on the large air mattress and started comparing notes about little boys. And their fathers. As Brian and Justin left the house to go to the barn, Brian got the distinct impression he would regret that his sister and his best friend would be spending the night together. He knew by morning all of his secrets would be revealed. He couldn’t help the little growl that rumbled in his throat.

Justin knew that Brian was fearing the impending girl talk so he decided that a little distraction was called for. When they rounded the side of the house, Justin pulled Brian into a close embrace, pulling his neck down and aggressively shoving his tongue down Brian’s throat. Caught off guard, Brian melted into the embrace forgetting all about Lindsay and Claire and that Brian was supposed to be the aggressor in their relationship. Brian felt himself grow instantly hard and allowed Justin to guide them both into the barn.

Finding a soft patch of straw, Justin pushed Brian in the chest and the two landed in the hay. Before Brian could complain about his bossy bottom, his bossy bottom attacked Brian’s lips and began a systemic all out assault on every inch of Brian. Up in the loft, in the dim light of one lone lit light bulb, John and Bobby who were witnessing something that no one ever saw, were quietly taking notes.

Not allowing Brian to think, Justin continued his assault on Brian’s body. Pushing every button, tapping every erogenous zone known to man and to Justin. Brian was a mound of clay for Justin to mold. 

After ridding Brian of his clothes and his own, Justin sucked down Brian's dripping cock. He held Brian’s slim hips firmly in place while he sucked the legendary organ. At the right moment Justin stopped his ministrations to Brian’s dick and he crawled up to near Brian’s ear. Gently nibbling Brian’s earlobe, Justin whispered, "You want me, don’t you, need me inside you."

Taking the grunt from Brian as an affirmation, Justin sought out his necessary supplies from Brian’s shorts pocket with his hands while his mouth reacquainted itself with Brian’s balls and the soft sensitive skin beneath them. Brian arched, spreading his thighs, confirming his permission. Justin quickly prepared himself and gently stretched Brian’s hole. Brian, enjoying his very bossy aggressive bottom, growled out, "Harder!" Not needing a second invitation, Justin drove himself roughly into Brian, pausing only a second to allow Brian to adjust to the sudden intrusion.

Justin, understanding that Brian was not in the mood for gentleness, began to fuck his lover for all that he was worth. He angled himself to hit Brian’s sweet spot over and over again making his man sweat and cry out. Justin, who learned his lessons well from the master, kept fucking Brian for what seemed like hours.

"Justin," Brian whimpered softly. Justin fisted Brian’s cock until he sprayed both their chests. Only then did Justin allow himself to cum and he filled his condom deep within Brian’s hot tunnel. Moaning loudly, the spent Justin collapsed onto Brian’s chest. Brian held on to Justin as their heaving chests threatened to knock Justin off. They lay there together, not wanting to move, remaining connected.

Up top, John and Bobby were a little embarrassed to be a witness to one of the most intimate acts they had ever seen. This was different from the other times Brian and Justin had sex. This was no little barn yard romp or streamside tryst. John and Bobby were not only turned on by what they saw but they were awed by it. The little blond knew just how to tame his top.

The stirring below caught their attention again.

"You okay?" Brian whispered in his sex husky voice.

"Yeah, you?" Justin answered.

"Yup. What brought this on, little boy?" Brian asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Thought you needed it. My gerbil took up residence in your brain. You were beginning to think too much. I thought you needed a distraction. Besides, it did work out those kinks, didn’t it?"

"Yes, it did. Come on, now that we gave John and Bobby an eyeful, let’s get up there and get some sleep. I think Beau wants his hay back." The lovers laughed softly together then helped each other up, cleaning each other with Brian’s t-shirt, donning their shorts.

"Hey!" Brian called, looking up the ladder. "Is it safe to come up? Wouldn’t want to interrupt anything we inspired, now would we." 

Two heads peered over the edge followed by duel raspberries.

"Oh, very mature." Brian yelled as he began to climb the ladder. Justin hung back a little to enjoy the view then he too ascended the ladder. The two couples finding comfortable and secluded spots, rolled out their sleeping bags then snuggled deep within them.

"Brian?"

"Yes, John."

"You don’t do that often, do you?"

"What, get man handled by my bossy bottom? No, not too often. Why?"

"I don’t know, just wondered. He looks like he’s very good at it."

"He is but we won't tell him that, will we. He already has the biggest ego in Pittsburgh, next to mine, of course," Brian said knowing full well that Justin was listening to every word, and pulling Justin close into his chest. "John."

"Yes, Brian."

"I don’t share." Brian growled out.

"Wouldn’t dream of it little brother, wouldn’t dream of it," John called out in his most sincere voice.

"Because..." Brian started then was abruptly interrupted by Justin’s repeat assault.

Following Justin’s example, the redhead wrapped up in John’s arms attacked his man.

On the floor of the barn, Beau buried himself in the hay futilely trying to drown out the noise.


	13. The Farm

Gus was dreaming. He was playing Twister with his cousins. He smiled in his sleep as he wiggled around trying to get the correct square for his foot. He knew he was going to win this time. But he just couldn't quite reach the blue square where his hand was supposed to go. He struggled to reach it. It was so close but his hand wouldn't move far enough. He whimpered in his sleep. He wanted to win. He wanted to show his father and his cousins that he was a big boy, that he could win the game.

Gus struggled a little more and then his eyes popped open. John and Peter were staring at him and laughing. He frowned and tried to get up. He could barely move. He looked down at his sleeping bag and found he was trussed inside it with a belt and shirts tied around him. He tried to free his arm, but it wouldn't budge. John and Peter laughed louder.

"Let me out," Gus said firmly fighting back tears. He didn't like this feeling of being trapped.

"You can get out yourself. We didn't tie it that tight," John said with a big grin.

"I can't," Gus said struggling against his bonds. The first tear rolled down his face. "I want my daddy."

"Don't be a baby," Peter said. 

"I'm not a baby."

"Then stop crying," John ordered.

Gus began crying more. "Let me out," he begged.

John and Peter looked at each other. This was supposed to be a joke, but Gus seemed scared. It had gone all wrong.

"Gus," John said untying one shirt. "We were just playing with you. Stay still and we'll get you out. We didn't mean to scare you." He struggled with another knot while Peter undid the belt. Finally Gus was free.

Gus sniffled and wiped at his eyes. "I'm going to get my daddy," he declared.

"Don't, don't do that, please," Peter begged. "We're sorry. Honest."

Gus studied his cousins. He was mad that they had tied him up and called him a baby. Slowly he realized that they seemed scared just like he had been a few minutes ago.

"I have to go pee," Gus said trying to decide what to do. He still wanted his daddy to put his arms around him and tell him everything would be all right.

"We'll help you down and into the house," John said with a smile trying to make things right with the little boy. He didn't want to face the wrath of an angry Brian. He still remembered his face being shoved into that toilet.

Gus realized he didn't have to be afraid anymore. "I can show you how big boys pee," he said to his cousins.

"Huh?" Peter said.

"Come on," Gus replied. 

The two boys followed him down to the balcony where Gus whipped out his little penis and peed through the railing. Peter and John watched in disbelief. Then with a laugh they joined Gus in the morning ritual the little boy had first shared with Justin and his father.

"That's cool, Gus," Peter said as he stuffed his dick back in his underwear.

Gus smiled. He liked getting praise from these boys. Maybe they weren't so bad.

"Let's get dressed," John said. "I'm hungry." 

The boys climbed back up and started pulling on t-shirts and shorts.

"Gus," John asked. "You won't tell your father what we did, will you?"

Gus wasn't sure how to answer that, but the boys seemed much nicer now. He wanted them to like him. "I won't tell," he said slowly.

John and Peter looked at each other. They smiled a bit. Maybe they could get away with what they had done after all. They didn't mean to hurt Gus. It was fun tying him up while he was asleep. Maybe they weren't supposed to do stuff like that now that they had been sent to the farm. John felt something he couldn't identify. If he had been older he would have called it remorse.

The boys made their way down from the treehouse and Gus ran to the barn. 

"Daddy, daddy," Gus called. Beau bounded out to greet him licking all over the little boy's face and making him giggle.

John and Peter held their breath before deciding that they really didn't want to know what Gus would tell his father. They went into the house.

"Hey, Sonny Boy," Brian called from the loft of the barn.

"Daddy," Gus said and began climbing the ladder to get to his father.

"Hey, buddy," Justin said. "Be careful climbing up here."

"I can do it."

Justin and Brian pulled on their shorts as Gus neared the top. Bobby and John did the same on the other side of the barn. Brian grabbed Gus' arm and helped him up the last step.

"Did you sleep good?" Brian asked.

Gus nodded and then debated telling his father what his cousins had done. "We peed through the railing," Gus giggled, deciding that would be all he would say.

Brian groaned. He'd have to go hose down the grass again. He made a face at Justin who was smirking at him with an 'I told you so' look on his face. "Say hi to Uncle John and Bobby," Brian said. 

Gus looked across and yelled, "Hi." He turned back to his father and said, "I'm hungry."

"Me too," Brian admitted. "Someone gave me a workout last night."

"I worked up an appetite too," Justin smirked.

"Us too, despite you two keeping us awake for hours," Bobby said.

"Okay, Gus," Brian said. "I'll go down first and then you come next. Be careful on the ladder. The steps are far apart."

"I know, daddy. It was hard climbing up here," Gus told his father in a serious tone.

When they all arrived at the main house Claire had already assigned jobs. Peter and John were making toast. 

Brian approached them and asked, "How was the treehouse?"

"Um … good," John said.

"Gus tells me you were naughty boys."

"Uh … what? What do you mean?" John cringed inside. That big baby had told his father.

"Gus says he taught you guys to piss off the balcony," Brian said with his tongue in cheek.

"Oh, yeah, right, he did."

"I guess I better go hose the grass down."

"Are … are you mad?"

"No, John, who do you think taught Gus to do that in the first place?" Brian winked and disappeared outside.

John let out a breath of relief, but then he frowned. Gus hadn't told on them. That was good, but he didn't feel particularly good about it. And he wondered when something might slip and Brian would find out.

"May I be excused for a couple of minutes?" John asked. The elder Claire nodded and Justin took over helping Peter with the toast.

John made his way outside to where Brian had the hose going to wash the grass around the base of the tree. "Uncle Brian," he said.

"Yes, John." Brian knew something was up. He could tell from John's reaction inside that something more than pissing off the balcony had occurred. Now maybe he was going to find out.

"I … I want to tell you something, and I don't want you to get mad."

"I can't promise that, if I don't know what it is."

John sighed. "This morning when we woke up…"

"Yes?"

"Gus was asleep and he looked so cute, so we took our shirts and belts and tied him up in his sleeping bag and then he woke up and he was struggling and we laughed at him and then he started to cry and he was scared and we got scared and we untied him and then we pissed off the balcony and Gus promised not to tell but I thought you knew in the kitchen and I was scared so I thought I better tell you before you found out." John drew in a very deep breath. "Did you know?"

"No, John, I didn't know. Gus didn't tell. But I know now." Brian turned the full Kinney glare on his hapless nephew. He watched John cringe under the scrutiny.

"I'm sorry. Peter's sorry too." John said weakly.

"I hope so. And this will never happen again?"

"Never. I promise," John said solemnly.

"Okay. Gus seems to have forgiven you, so I guess I can too."

"It was just supposed to be a joke."

"Sometimes jokes get out of hand." John nodded. "Did you learn something from this?" John nodded. "Care to tell me what?"

"I learned that things that seem like fun may have consequences and I should think about those before I do anything."

"That's a very valuable lesson, so let's leave it at that." John nodded and ventured a little smile. "You still a brat?" Brian smirked.

"Yeah, you still a fag?" John grinned.

"Yeah," Brian said ruffling John's hair.

"I'm really sorry," John repeated.

"I know. Let's go get some breakfast."

Brian let his hand stay gently on John's shoulder as they walked back to the house.

When Brian and John entered the house, Claire and Justin knew immediately that something was up. Brian shook his head and mouthed, ‘later’ at them both. He went directly to a large bowl of oranges then asked the elder Claire if juice was needed. She nodded, smiled and handed Brian the old fashion juicer, a knife and several pitchers. He rolled his eyes, sighed dramatically then began to cut up the oranges. Little John pulled up a chair and sat next to his uncle.

"If you show me what to do, I can help." John looked up into his uncle’s hazel eyes that in the past he feared and hated. This time he saw understanding and affection. Brian showed John how to use the juicer. Working in concert together, in no time juice was done.

After the previous day's antics and hilarity, Sunday’s breakfast was quiet and subdued. The family knew that they would all go home and the summer was coming to an end.   
Claire and her sons were looking forward to going home, leaving the farm behind but they were also nervous and anxious. They feared that leaving this very special environment, their old behavior would reemerge and that was unacceptable. Claire had the appointments that Bill set up for her written down and secure in her bag. She resolved to learn from the past and move herself and her boys forward.

Debbie was unable to stomach all this quiet. Looking over to the elder Claire, she made a very loud suggestion. "I realize that Bobby has to work next weekend so that you all coming to us for Labor Day may not work, so do you think you can put up with all of us for the long weekend. We’ll be sure to bring plenty of food and more games."

"I think that’s a wonderful idea," Claire confirmed. "We’d love it! Wouldn't we John?" Claire asked of her son.

"I’m not so sure," John mumbled into his juice.

"What?" several people cried including Bobby who started to flush with embarrassment that his lover could say such a thing.

"Jackie, what do you mean?" Claire said sternly.

"Well, if the whole family is coming up here, I may get a hotel room for me and Bobby."

"John Anderson, you better explain yourself and this better be good." Now Claire was getting angry.

"Brian, I love you and Justin but you two never stop. You guys kept us awake all night long!" John said with a smirk.

Without a second thought, Brian countered. "Hey, I can’t help if I’m the best fu..." Brian stopped himself, suddenly realizing that there were several little ears in the room. He coughed then began again. "I can’t help it if Justin snores. It’s all those damned allergies of his." Brian then smiled sweetly at his brother who winked backed and the two of them cracked up at the look of sheer indignation on Justin’s face.

All of a sudden a small piece of toast smacked Brian between the eyes. Brian looked up at his seemingly innocent lover and scowled. He picked up a grape and sent it careening over to Justin. It bounced off his cheek. The more mature adults realizing that an all out war was imminent picked up their plates and guided the younger children out on to the porch.

As everyone got comfortable on the porch, they waited for the sounds of the food fight. Several minutes passed and all they heard was quiet and occasional soft moaning. The family looked around the porch, each questioning and puzzled at the silence. Michael stood up, "I’ll go." He quietly slipped into the kitchen. He was not surprised at what he saw.

Justin was sitting on Brian’s lap happily feeding Brian his toast, sharing bits of fruit and several kisses. Bobby was equally ensconced on John’s lap similarly feeding his lover.  
Michael quickly and quietly slipped back out.

"Well? What are they doing in there?" Debbie impatiently asked.

"You know Brian." Michael shrugged and sat down next to his husband to finish his breakfast.

"They're not, not on the table are they?" Lindsay asked.

"Oh no, but I would give the four of them a few more minutes to, um, calm down."

"I don’t understand," the younger Claire spurted out shyly.

Again it was Gus who had the answers for his aunt. "They’re kissing, Auntie Claire."

"Oh, OH! They do that a lot, don’t they?"

"YES!" The whole family answered her back and they all shared the laugh. Breakfast continued.

 

After breakfast Michael, his family and John set out on their bikes once again. Justin and Peter went down by the stream to draw. The women cleared the dishes in the kitchen and then went to look at the Kinney paintings in more detail in the hall of Claire's home. Carl and Emmett joined them. Ted took Gus' hand and the two went for a walk with Beau. Brian sat in a lawn chair in the yard soaking up some of the last rays of summer.

Brian closed his eyes and thought about the transformation in the spawn. He would have to stop calling them that. John had finally done the right thing telling him about tying Gus up. Brian had done his best to contain his anger when he had first heard what the two brats had done. But he quickly realized that Gus had not been hurt or his son would have said something. He also saw John's fear and remembered his own fear from his childhood. Lesser things than what the boys had done would have earned him a beating, and he had always vowed that he would never stand by and see that happen to a child. And he would never do that to a child, even his nephews, even when they did something like that to his son. He also knew that if they had really hurt Gus he might not have been able to keep that vow. He wasn't quite as evolved as he might like to think he was.

"Brian," a soft voice said.

Brian opened his eyes and squinted up at his sister. The sun was in his eyes. He sighed. "Yes, sister dearest."

"I hope you're not saying that in the way it was used for Joan Crawford," Claire said frowning.

"I was just being a shit."

Claire chuckled. "You were always good at that."

"My trademark."

"That and knowing how to push people's buttons."

"You think?" Brian asked his tongue in his cheek.

"Oh yeah!"

"Seems to me that you pushed a few of mine over the years."

"We haven't been very nice to each other, have we?"

Brian shook his head. "But then we had excellent role models in dysfunctionality."

"Still do," Claire admitted with a rueful grin.

"How is dear old mom?"

"You should visit her. She's not getting any younger."

"Let's not go there," Brian warned. "I don't want to end the weekend by throwing up all over you or having to kill you on our walk down memory lane."

"Okay," Claire said thoughtfully deciding she didn't want to ruin their time together either. "I've been thinking," she said softly.

"That's always a dangerous thing."

"Will you listen to me for a minute? I want to say this before I chicken out." Brian studied his sister wondering what she was going to come up with this time. He nodded for her to continue. "Brian, I think I've learned more about you this weekend than I've learned in the last fifteen years."

"Maybe that's because you were stuck here with me. You were kind of a captive audience."

"It made me open my eyes to some facts. I … I'm glad you're happy."

"I wasn't … for a long time."

"I know. What changed that?"

"Justin."

"He's a fine young man. He seems to have taken Peter under his wing."

"Yeah, they both like art. It's good to have a hobby."

"Do you have one? A hobby I mean."

"Until I met Justin I would have said my hobby was fucking."

Claire blushed. "That's some hobby. And now?"

"I … I take photographs and I read and we watch movies together, and I … study Justin."

"Study Justin?"

"He teaches me so much about who I am and who I could be."

"I have to say he's done a fine job with you so far."

Brian chuckled. "I agree, but he still has a lot of work to do."

"Not so much," Claire said sincerely. "I'd say you're a fine man just as you are."

"God, Claire, my head is going to explode with all this sweetness."

"Sorry if I'm sending you into a diabetic coma, but I mean every word."

"Thanks … Sis," Brian said leaning over and kissing Claire's cheek.

Claire blushed some more. "Do you know how long it's been since we shared any affection?"

"Did we ever?"

"Asshole!"

"That's my girl, the sister I know and … love."

Claire looked into the hazel eyes and she smiled at Brian's use of that word. She never thought she would hear him say that to her. "I'm ready to go home now."

"Me too."

Before long everyone had returned. They decided to have a quick swim in the stream before leaving for the long trip back to Pittsburgh. Emmett brought a beach ball which he blew up and they spent a lot of the time batting it back and forth in a game of water volleyball. The spawn joined in as did Claire and Debbie and Carl. It was a fun time for them all. 

When they finally had all the cars loaded and ready to go, the hug fest began. Bill and Steve arrived from the farm having been called by the elder Claire. They hugged the boys and young Claire encouraging them to continue with the strides they had already made.

Promises were made that everyone would return for Labor Day. Brian said he would bring Claire and the boys. They were riding back to Pittsburgh with Brian, Gus' booster seat having been transferred into Ted's car. Lindsay and Gus would go home with Ted and Emmett.

As they drove down the lane, Justin turned to Brian. "That was a great weekend."

"I agree," Brian said with a slight smirk. He did agree but it was never his way to be too effusive about anything.

"I think it was a new beginning," Claire said, "for us all." She looked at her boys who sat with her in the back seat. They nodded in agreement. What more could she ask for?


	14. The Farm

Preparing for the up and coming long weekend, the whole family got into celebration mode. Debbie, Emmett, Lindsey and Jennifer started cooking and baking. Brian ordered the other essentials and arranged for them to be delivered rather than have the Anderson convoy to the grocer. Extra sleeping bags were brought and a couple of tents were arranged for. Claire and the boys would stay at the cottage unless the boys slept in the treehouse. Then backup plans were made. Even Justin’s best friend, Daphne was able to make the trip.

With that many hands on board it was also agreed that the whole family would help to close down the farm for the winter. Steve and Bill had all the chores divvied up so that if they started early on Saturday, it would all be finished by Saturday night. Sunday would be their day to PAR-TAY!

And party they did.

All sorts of board games were in constant play. There was swimming, horseback riding, bike riding, hiking and cooking. The grill was in use around the clock. Wine and beer flowed in moderation in consideration of all the youngsters that were around. There was music and dancing and an occasional tryst in a secluded spot.

By Monday the family was ready to return to Pittsburgh, a little sad to be leaving their new extended family behind but happy knowing that Claire, John and Bobby would be visiting in October. 

******************************************************************

John drove Claire to Pittsburgh early Saturday morning on the 1st of October. The opening of the Kinney collection would be later that night and would then run through the month. At the end an auction would be held, the proceeds to go to the Farm. Some of the paintings already had ‘silent bids’ made for them. There were also a dozen statewide submissions from gay artists including a few Justin Taylor originals. 

Jennifer opened her home to Claire. John would stay at the loft and he hoped Bobby would be able to make it. This was Bobby’s last year at Penn and he was up to his pretty red head in work.

The opening was an exhibition of gay pride. Emmett’s party planning company did the catering and the decorating. Kinnetik handled the PR. Most of Liberty was there as well as some of Pittsburgh's most affluent. It was a colorful sight to behold.

Rainbow bunting adorned the furniture and Emmett had outdone himself with the food. The waiters wore rainbow bowties and cummerbunds. He wanted nothing but the best for the showing of one of the first gay artists in America. He also wanted everything to be special for Brian and the budding artist Justin Taylor.

Brian looked around the gallery. All of his "family" was there, but not his actual family. Claire and the spawn had not yet appeared and he wondered if they would. It had been a month since they had returned to Pittsburgh from the Farm. Brian had only talked to Claire once. The boys seemed to be better. Claire wasn't calling and complaining about them all the time. She had asked Brian to keep his distance for a while until she tried the techniques Steve and Bill had taught her. She was going to counseling sessions that they had arranged for her and the boys. Brian hoped it was working out all right, but them not being at the opening wasn't a good sign. Maybe their homophobia was keeping them away from a gallery of art done by homosexuals and a roomful of people most of whom were gay. Brian shook his head and glanced at the door once again.

His breath caught in his throat. There were Claire and the spawn standing in the doorway and looking terrified as they scanned the room for a familiar face. Claire had on a lovely black dress and shawl. The boys were freshly scrubbed wearing slacks, white shirts and ties. They even had dress shoes which replaced the ever present sneakers that kids wore. Brian knew Claire didn't have much money. She must have made a hell of an effort to get all these new things and bring the boys there. Brian moved over to them.

"Claire," he said. She turned and smiled at him. "You look lovely," Brian said meaning every word of it. She had obviously had her hair done too. She looked better than he had seen her look in a long time.

Claire blushed. "Thanks," she said softly.

"And you guys don't look half bad either," Brian added smiling at the boys.

They each made a face, but then smiled at their uncle. "She made us dress like this," John said. "I refused to come dressed like some sissy, but she made us."

"Be careful, kid," Brian smirked. "You're in a gallery full of sissies."

"Fuck!" John said and then he grinned. "Sissies aren't so bad … sometimes."

"Still a brat, I see," Brian observed.

"Still a fag," John countered and they both laughed.

"Feeling better now?" Brian asked them.

"Better? What do you mean?" Claire asked.

"You looked terrified when you first came in. I thought you were afraid to be around so many fags."

Claire chuckled. "I'm terrified of coming to the opening of an art show. I've never been to anything like this in my life."

Brian studied his sister for a moment. He could tell she was nervous, but also excited. "Well, don't worry. I'll show you around. Everyone's here, so you'll know lots of people."

Just then Debbie came up and took Claire's arm. She proceeded to usher Claire and the boys over to the first painting. Brian watched Claire accept a glass of wine. The boys tried to take one too, but a look from their mother made them stop. The waiter returned shortly with glasses of Coke for them. Maybe things were working out for his sister. The boys were certainly on their best behavior so far.

Brian wandered through the gallery and took another look at one painting by Kinney that continued to attract his attention. This was the third time he had found himself in front of it that evening.

Reluctantly he moved away to find Justin. Justin was standing in front of the four pictures he had submitted for the show. He was talking animatedly to some man, so Brian didn't want to interrupt him.

Lindsay came up beside Brian and kissed his cheek. "The show is going great. I think Justin has sold a piece already, and I've sold three from some of the other artists. There's lots of interest in Kinney's work too, so the auction should be a success."

"That's great, Lindz."

"Is something wrong, Brian?"

"No, in fact just the opposite. When are the speeches to begin?"

"Soon. Are you nervous about speaking?"

"Me? I speak all the time."

"But this is a little different."

"Yeah," was Brian's reply. He wasn't exactly sure about this whole thing. 

Just then he heard Sidney Bloom's voice calling for everyone's attention. The room quieted and Sidney began. "Welcome to the Sidney Bloom Gallery. We're really pleased with the turnout tonight. I hope you are all enjoying the show." There was a round of applause indicating that they were. "I want to introduce someone to you who will say a few words about how this exhibition came about. He is the great great great grandson of John Aidan Brian Kinney, the featured artist." There was a round of applause. "Many of you already know this man, the head of Kinnetik Advertising, Brian Kinney."

Brian moved to the raised area and gazed out at his family and friends and lots of strangers. He silently stood before the assembled throng waiting for them to quiet. Brian cleared his throat.

"I don't plan to take up too much of your time. I know you didn't come here to listen to me." Brian paused for a moment. "I never thought I'd be standing here recognizing a member of my family." There were some chuckles from those who knew Brian and his dysfunctional family history. "However, times change." Brian let those words hang in the air. "I'd like you to recognize the artist's great great great granddaughter, my sister Claire, and her two sons, John and Peter." 

Amidst the applause Claire gave a little wave and the boys looked thunderstruck at being introduced to the whole crowd. Brian smiled at them.

"There are some other people who deserve a lot of credit for bringing this show about. First, Sidney Bloom and his assistant Lindsay Peterson." Applause. "I'd also like you to meet my half brother John Anderson and his mother Claire Anderson." They waved and smiled. "They have been caretakers of these paintings for many years, and it's through them that we have this legacy." Applause. "As you know the Kinney pieces will be auctioned off and the proceeds will go to fund a farm which helps troubled children find their way in this tough world." Brian smiled at John and Peter who looked at the floor. "But finally I want you to meet the one person who made this all possible through his innate curiosity and his dauntless persistence, my partner, Justin Taylor."

Brian motioned Justin to come up and he planted a big one on his partner to the cheers of the crowd. Debbie could be heard above them all yelling, "Way to go, kiddo!"

Brian released Justin but looked into the pure blue eyes. He had found something on the internet that he had memorized. He wondered if he could actually say the words. They were so unlike him and yet so like the new philosophy of life that he was developing or maybe that he was hoping to follow. He cleared his throat and began.

"I found this on the internet, and in part because of the Kinney Irish connection, I'd like to say:

Work like you don't need the money.   
Love like you've never been hurt.   
Dance like nobody's watching.   
Sing like nobody's listening.   
Live like it's Heaven on Earth. 

"That's what I intend to so from now on, and that's what John Aidan Brian Kinney did long before people thought he had any right to do so."

The applause was deafening and Brian leaned in to kiss Justin once again. When they stepped down from the raised area and the music had resumed, they were surrounded by their family and friends. Everyone congratulated Brian on his speech and teased him about his new philosophy of life. Brian didn't care. He was happier than he could ever remember being.

At the end of the night Brian was standing in front of the Kinney and Patrick portrait. This was the one that had drawn him to it all night. In the painting Kinney was sitting on a boulder near a stream with Patrick standing facing him, their fingers touching. All night long people were coming up to Brian saying how much he resembled Kinney. Brian thought that John favored the artist more than he did, simply because Kinney had a serene look about him. It reminded Brian of the look John wore when Bobby was around and when John talked about Bobby. Brian didn’t realize he wore that same look when he was with Justin or when he thought of Justin. 

Patrick Taylor was fair skinned and blond. Again an uncanny coincidence. It was obvious that they were in love. Next to the painting was the x-ray taken of it. The faint penciling of the original portrait was visible, a study of Patrick.

As Brian stared at the painting Sidney Bloom joined him. 

"Beautiful, isn’t it?"

"Yes, it is. I’d like to buy it and the x-ray too. I’ll match the highest bid. I … there’s something about the way they’re looking at each other. It feels familiar."

"I’m sorry Brian but this one is not for sale. Claire held this one back."

"But why? It’s got to be the best of the lot. It could bring in so much." 

Brian was so disappointed. He wanted the portrait, not just for himself but for Justin. If it wasn’t for Justin the painting would still be buried in the root cellar.

Brian began to sulk.

"Brian? What’s wrong?" Justin stood beside his partner and saw how low Brian’s shoulders had sunk.

"I wanted to bid on this painting, I wanted us to have it but it’s not for sale. Do you think if I ask Claire, she may reconsider?"

"I don’t know Brian. She’s almost as stubborn as you are." Justin said with a sly grin. Brian was too devastated at the thought of not having the painting to notice Justin’s expression. Nor did he notice Claire joining the slowly growing group in front of the Kinney.

"Brian?"

"Claire, please, I really would like to own this, for Justin."

"Brian, it’s not for sale." Brian’s heart crashed and he suddenly felt Justin’s allergies attack him.

"Please, Claire."

"Brian, I’m not selling but..." Claire continued holding Brian’s face between her hands. "I will give it to you and Justin when the show is over. Including the x-ray." Claire wiped away the tear that slowly descended Brian’s cheek. Brian picked up the woman and swung her around, laughing.

"Thank you! Thank you, thank you. I promise to give it a good home."

"I know you will." Brian gently put Claire down then glared at his innocent looking partner.

"You knew, didn’t you? You let me go through all that and you knew. You’ll pay later, big time," Brian growled at Justin.

"You promise?" Justin asked with his sunniest smile.

"Oh yeah, I promise!" Brian snorted back. Then he grabbed his partner, gave him a noogy and then a passionate kiss with promises of more where that came from.

Opening night was a resounding success.

******

"Ladies and gentleman, I called you all in here today to say congratulations and thank you. Our third quarter profits have shot through the roof. Theodore is quite pleased and I may even...."

"BRIAN!!! You have to help me!"

"Hello Claire, so nice to see you. And what brings you here, again; interrupting my STAFF meeting, again?"

"I saaiidd, you have to help me."

"Please don’t tell me it’s your spawn. Cause I don’t think I..."

"No, Brian, nothing like that, I, uh, um...."

"Spit it out, and don’t worry, my staff is very loyal and won't say a word."

"I met someone at the gallery and I’d like your help in picking out a new outfit. You always have the greatest taste in clothes. And then I thought we could have lunch together. I’m sorry I interrupted."

"Ladies and gentlemen, I call lunch. We can do this later. I have an important date with my sister. Cynthia...!"

"I know; hold all calls. Have fun, you two!"

"We will. Come on, Claire. Now tell me all about this guy and let me introduce you to a man named Armani."


End file.
